


Three Sides

by subtextgirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-14 18:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21019982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtextgirl/pseuds/subtextgirl
Summary: “There are three sides to every story.” A companion piece to ‘Treachery’. (Over-used quote borrowed shamelessly from Robert Evans.) AKA, the trope where Regina is still sick, but this time Emma isn't the only one who finds herself involved.





	1. Henry

**Author's Note:**

> This can be neither explained nor justified and has been sitting partially finished in my drafts for getting on three years. Consequently, I am simply happy to finally put it on the completed list (and pretend it never happened).

**Monday**

Henry Mills looked up curiously at the unusually slow sound of his mother entering the kitchen. Some of his earliest memories as a small child were of his seemingly indomitable parent efficiently completing with practiced ease the feat of multi-tasking that saw him leave for school each day with his nutritionally balanced packed lunch and every book he could possibly require whilst his immaculately presented mom left the house pristine ready for a busy day of running their town. Now, unable to ignore her sluggish movements, he took a moment to take in the abnormally pale face and weary frame of the woman who had raised him for the majority of his fifteen years. On seeing him watching her, his mom flashed him a bright smile. As he moved closer to ditch his empty cereal bowl in the dishwasher, he was surprised at the rush of protectiveness he felt on noticing that for the first time they stood at the same height. Resting a hand on her shoulder he pointedly looked her up and down, as she visibly straightened her posture. He knew that things had been pretty crappy for his mom since the whole Robin and Zelena fiasco, but sometimes he still selfishly wished that the brittle edges and sharp corners of her hard-ass persona, that his ten year old self had vilified would make some kind of an appearance to at least reassure him that she was still able to protect herself from the battering that life seemed intent on giving her. Ignoring the twist in his stomach as he watched her walls struggle to rise in front of him, he put on his best adult voice.

“Mom, are you ok?”

His mom seemed to deflate in front of him, and for a horrible moment he thought she might cry. But in a second, the familiar mask slipped back in place, as she patted him hesitantly on the arm.

“Of course, dear. I’m fine. Now go before you’re late for school.”

Sighing slightly dramatically, Henry gave his mom one final stare before pulling on his backpack and heading for the door. As he pushed through the neat garden gate and onto the street, he reached into his pocket grabbing his cell. Unable to shake the feeling that his mom needed someone today, he fired off a text to the one person he knew would be that someone without question.

‘_Emma. Need your help. It’s mom_.’

-/-

Relishing the freedom that came with the end of another school day, Henry casually pushed open the door to Granny’s and was surprised to see Snow sitting there alone, staring at her phone with a look of confusion. Sighing, he threw his backpack onto the empty seat across from her sliding in after it.

“Grams?”

The brunette looked up somewhat startled before collecting herself and smiling brightly.

“Hi, Henry. How was school?”

In deference to the teenager her now truly was, Henry shrugged noncommittally. “It was ok. Are you waiting for Emma?”

Snow’s smile grew at the mention of her daughter’s name. “Yes, she was meant to meet me here fifteen minutes ago, but she must be running late. Have you seen her?”

Scanning the street for any sign of his biological mother, Henry turned his attention back to his grandparent. “I was worried about mom, so Emma was going to check in with her. She might still be there.”

Snow looked immediately concerned. “Is Regina ok?”

Fighting his childhood, and ok in hindsight immature and unintentionally cruel, impulse to wonder how Snow White could be so genuinely concerned about the well-being of the Evil Queen who had terrorised her for so many years, Henry schooled his features in a fashion that would have impressed even his mom.

“I think she’s sick, but she wouldn’t tell me, so Emma was gonna go see her. I’ll text her.”

Snow’s expression seemed somewhere between amused and curious for a moment before she smiled at her grandson warmly, watching his fingers fly over the keypad of his cell before tossing it back into his backpack.

“Well then it looks like I’ve been stood up in favour of Regina, so what do you say you and I grab some fries and ice-cream and we don’t tell your moms?”

Henry grinned in spite of himself. “Cool.”

The moment was interrupted by the buzzing of a phone, sending both the teenager and his grandmother rooting through their bags for the source. Victorious, Henry retrieved his phone from under a math book, quickly scanning the response from Emma.

Lifting his cell up he held it out to Snow, again noticing the start of a smirk flitting across her face before concern once again took over. Before Henry could reply he was amused to see his grandmother firing out a message at, he noted, am impressive speed on the new iPhone that Emma had insisted both she and David use. On seeing the teenager’s approving look, Snow shrugged nonchalantly. Moments later the device beeped in response and her expression became thoughtful. After typing out a slightly longer message than previous, she locked the device slipping it back into her bag and smiling at her grandson.

“Well it looks like you were right, Henry. Emma says Regina has a migraine so are you ok to stay with David and I at the loft tonight?”

Again, realising just how much things had changed over the last few years, Henry was unable to hide his hesitance. Not wanting to upset Snow, he started to reply, before noticing the understanding look on her face.

“It’s ok, Henry. Emma’s staying with Regina so we both know she’ll be fine.”

Not stopping to question the certainty he felt that his mom would be ok as long as Emma was there, Henry grinned cheekily.

“So, what is it you were saying about ice-cream for dinner?”

**Tuesday**

Looking forward to spending the night in his own bed, and more importantly away from his screaming baby uncle, Henry walked up the front path of his childhood home. Finding 108 Mifflin Street in darkness, he cautiously let himself in through the imposing front door. He was greeted with the weary sight of his biological mother quietly making her way down the stairs. Taking in the sight of the noticeable bags under her eyes, he was about to ask what the hell was going on, as Emma raised one finger to her lips, her other hand motioning, in his view a little over-dramatically, toward the kitchen. Following her instruction, he trailed behind her into the room, noticing that Emma pulled the door quietly closed before she spoke.

“Hey, kid. Sorry ‘bout last night.”

“It’s cool.” He shrugged. “Is mom ok?”

At the mention of his mom, Henry noted somewhat strangely, that a small smile crossed Emma’s exhausted face.

“It’s been kind of a long night, or day, or… whatever.” She shrugged in a mirror image of her son’s earlier gesture. “She’s still sleeping.” She paused. “I think her headache’s eased up, but she probably feels pretty crappy so go easy on her, ok?”

Henry rolled his eyes. “I’m not a bratty little kid anymore, y’know?” He paused for a moment, his expression becoming serious. “But thank you, for taking care of her, I mean. I know she doesn’t make it easy for people to help her.”

Emma shrugged again, looking uncomfortable, but Henry wasn’t sure why. “Hey, I’m not just people, ok. The timeline may have got kinda screwed up, but we’re all family. And not to sound as cheesy as my mom, we look after each other ‘cause that’s what family do. So, when your mom needs help, she gets it.”

Unsure what to make of his biological mom’s unexpected outburst, Henry stopped for a moment before grinning easily. “So, what’s for dinner?”

Seeing the genuinely panicked look on Emma’s face, he felt slightly guilty and quickly held up a paper bag of groceries sitting precariously on top of his backpack. “Chill, ok. Did you think grams would send me back here without knowing that all three of us would be fed?”

Emma looked so relieved that Henry half expected her to hug him. However, her expression soon shifted to one of curiosity as she waved her hands indicating for him to continue.

“Tonight, on the menu we have chicken from Granny’s – already cooked so no one gets hurt – and a salad that Grams thought would do us good and make mom happy.”

He looked up from the bag to see Emma smiling at him knowingly. “She gave you ice cream for dinner last night, didn’t she?” At Henry’s lack of response, Emma’s smirk grew. “Don’t worry, kid. Your secret’s safe with me. Now why don’t you go wash up, and I’ll go see if your mom’s awake, so we can eat.”

Henry watched as Emma pushed open the door, following her up the stairs to head to his bedroom. He stopped for a moment listening to a soft exchange of words coming from his mom’s bedroom. Peeking in curiously as he walked past, he was surprised to see Emma perched casually on the bed, one hand resting carefully on his mom’s face, with both women acting as if this was the most normal thing in the world. Ignoring the sudden feeling of guilt that he had intruded upon a private moment, he slipped quietly into his room.

-/-

Henry was already back in the kitchen when Emma returned. In the time she’d been ‘checking on his mom’ he’d already managed to unpack his schoolbooks and plate three salads. As he turned his attention to the chicken, he could feel his biological parent watching him closely. When he turned around, he could see that Emma once again had an odd look on her face, but unsure what it meant or what he should do, he opted for a safer topic.

“How’s mom doing?”

The evident lack of sleep, he realised with some satisfaction, was making the rest of Emma’s thoughts easier to read. Whilst he knew his biological mom was probably more truthful with him than some of the other adults in his life, he could right now see quite clearly on her face, the inner battle between answering how he would want versus how the subject of his enquiry would wish to be portrayed to her son. With some insight, he again considered how things had changed knowing that whilst once this hesitation would have made him mad, his overriding feeling now was gratitude that his adopted mom, for once in her life, had someone who was firmly in her corner.

Emma paused, clearly choosing her words as carefully as she could.

“She seems better than earlier. But you know your mom, she hates admitting that she’s not fine.”

The last part of the sentence was finished with a fairly crappy imitation of his mom, but Emma was clearly wiped out, so he let it go – for now.

“Is she still sick? I thought she had a migraine and they usually go after she sleeps enough.” Henry knew he sounded worried but didn’t care.

Emma appeared to be thinking as she spoke, her brow creasing in thought.

“I don’t know, Hen. She’s been sleeping since yesterday, but she still looks tired. I’m pretty sure she still has a headache. She can’t stop shivering and she threw up in her office and again last night.” She smiled at him. “Which was as gross, and not like your mom, as it sounds, so I’m pretty sure she’ll kill me if she knows I’ve repeated it, ok?”

Henry grinned for a moment before unwittingly mirroring Emma’s concentrated expression.

“Some kids at school are out with flu. But mom never gets sick.” He paused. “I know with the curse she wouldn’t, but ever since it broke, I’ve never seen her get really sick. Even when she has a migraine, she tries to hide it.”

Emma sighed, again clearly debating her next words.

Drawing himself up to stand as tall as he could, Henry raised an eyebrow, coolly staring down his parent. Seemingly getting the message, he could see Emma appraising him, the emotion in her expression almost making him want to turn away in embarrassment, but he made himself stay.

“Look, kid. I know you’re not exactly a kid anymore. Geez, after some of the stuff we’ve been through it’s a wonder you’re not catatonic or something. But you know if I can’t tell you something, it’s not because I don’t trust you, or I don’t think you can handle it. Your mom hasn’t had many people in her life she can trust. You know the whole story now. And I know that I’ve done things, without meaning to, that have hurt Regina and made her feel like she can’t trust me. I also don’t need to tell you how much your mom loves you and wants to protect you, even when you don’t think you need it. But sometimes your mom might just need to not be so self-sufficient all the time and have someone to prop her up for a bit when she needs it. And she needs to be able to do that without you worrying about her.”

Henry nodded, mutely, idly wondering when exactly it was that his moms turned into such a forceful parenting unit, or more pointedly when Emma went from being his fairy-tale long-lost mom to actual real-life, guilt inducing mom.

“And we both know your mom has had a pretty shitty time of it lately.” She paused, cringing slightly at the language that slipped out, causing Henry to grin at the flash of the Emma that he first knew.

“But anyway, sometimes when people are tired, or sad, things that wouldn’t normally bother them can make them get sick more easily. So, whether your mom wants to tell us that she’s not feeling good, or not, we’re both gonna make sure that she gets some rest and we don’t give her a hard time about it, you hear?”

Henry found himself nodding solemnly. Just as he was about to finally reply, Emma looked at him tiredly. “And no more code names, ok. I don’t think my brain can handle remembering my own name right now.”

Henry smirked. “I didn’t want to say anything, but you do look like crap.”

“Shut up.”

The rebuke was both half-hearted and childish and made Henry feel giddily like his ten-year-old self.

“Emma, I’m pretty sure it’s not good parenting to tell me to shut up.”

His biological parent grinned challengingly. “Well, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t dare have said to your mom what you just said to me.”

Henry shrugged, his smirk growing. “Well it’s true. You _do_ look like crap.”

He flinched dramatically as a snapping dish towel glanced his upper arm. “Ow, my shoulder.”

Watching as Emma, clearly suffering from her evident lack of sleep, struggled to form her usual snappy retort, he found his attention distracted by a slow movement at the corner of his vision.

“Well, you deserved it. And for your information I managed a whole four hours sleep before you came home. And ok so it might have been in a chair but need I remind you that I have spent many an extremely comfortable night in my bug over the years, and am therefore completely refreshed, you little….”

“Mom!”

Turning quickly, Henry felt his initial relief at seeing his mother dampen as he took in her pale complexion and crappy attempt to hide the fact that the only thing keeping her upright was an uncomfortable looking death grip on the kitchen doorframe. Letting her hollow attempt to reassure him that she was fine wash over his head, he threw a brief but pointed look at Emma who he noticed was already on the case lowering her weirdly carefully onto a stool. Taking note of her warning glare, Henry feigned a sudden fascination with the salad leaves in front of him as Emma hovered anxiously over his mom.

His attention was re-focused as Regina’s voice rang out across the kitchen.

“Henry. Please don’t say you allowed Miss Swan to prepare food. We’ve spoken about this and I believe my instructions on this matter were very clear.”

Fighting his first instinct to call her out on her obvious subterfuge, Henry felt an unbidden wave of empathy for the woman who still insisted on protecting him even when it was kind of pointless. Instead he sighed, smirking at Emma before smiling at his mom.

“Don’t worry, mom. We both know who’s the responsible adult here. The chicken is from Granny’s and I made the salad. I’m not an idiot.”

Aware that Emma was now staring at him with a weird and kinda uncomfortable expression that she always had when he did something good or unexpected, he ducked his head awkwardly.

“Are we eating in the dining room?”

Grabbing the plates of the counter ready to move, Henry turned clumsily to see that Emma’s smile had now morphed into her familiar grin as his mom acquiesced oddly quickly to the request that they eat right there in the kitchen. Weirder still was the way his mom seemed to relax as Emma’s hand reached for her back and stayed there.

-/-

Having long since devoured his unsatisfyingly healthy dinner, Henry shuffled uncomfortably in his seat exchanging yet another pointed look with his biological parent. A strange little game had been going on for a good five minutes whereby Emma would stare anxiously in the direction of his mom before catching his eye for a moment and making a show of slowly eating another mouthful of the salad left on her plate. His mom, for her part, although he was sure she had noticed Emma’s less than subtle glances, made worryingly little effort to comment and was instead staring intently but kind of blankly into the almost full plate of food that she was pushing around in front of her. Knowing a stalemate when he saw one, Henry cleared his throat with the hope that his not so subtle gesture would catch the attention of at least one of his moms.

“So, um, movie night, anyone?”

At his comment, his biological mom, lifted her head in his direction, smiling a little too gratefully, he thought, than the suggestion of a movie probably warranted.

“Sure, Hen. That’s a great idea. Why don’t you go and set it up and we’ll be right behind you.”

More relieved to be making his exit than he probably should be, Henry slipped off his stool, pausing only to see that Emma was already beside his mom once again, a hand resting carefully on her back.

-/-

Doing his best to follow Emma’s request, Henry fought the urge to turn his attention from the TV as he heard the murmur of voices behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, if he tilted his head at just the right angle, he could see the blonde gesturing something to his mom who he could hear slowly lowering herself into a seated position. Seconds later there was the less gentle sound of what he knew was Emma joining his mom on the sofa.

“What’re we watching, kid?”

Chancing a glance over his shoulder, Henry was slightly alarmed to realise that his mom looked worse than she had during dinner. Her face was oddly pale, and she seemed to be staring at something in the distance. His rising anxiety was not being helped by the worried looks Emma was casting in her direction, thankfully not realising they were being observed.

Giving up the pretence of disinterest, the teenager pushed himself into a seated position, giving his biological mom a pointed stare.

Finally tearing her eyes away from his mom, Emma returned his expression. Sensing a stand-off, Henry was about to give up and lay back down when the attention of both mother and son was distracted by the suddenly obvious shivering from Regina.

Watching as Emma’s expression went from surprised, to alarmed, to a warning glare reminiscent of his adopted mom in the space of about three seconds, Henry sighed and pointedly turned his attention back to the screen in front of him. Behind him he could hear restless shifting on the sofa until he heard the tell-tale creak of someone almost quietly rising to their feet. Unable to contain himself any longer, the teenager watched openly as Emma cast another pensive look at his mom before striding purposefully out of the room. For a moment he wondered whether he should take Emma’s place on the sofa as he had the unnerving feeling that his mom was gonna pass out or something, but instead she lifted her head flashing him a too bright smile, the fake kind that still sent a hot flash of shame through him when he thought about what his ten-year old self would have thought of it. Instead he heard Emma’s parental voice in his head reminding him that his mom at least needed to think she could still protect him from the crap that seemed to happen on a far too regular basis, and he felt himself smiling back and reluctantly turning once again to whatever the hell they were meant to be watching on the TV.

The bright glare of a detergent commercial caught Henry’s attention and for a minute he wasn’t sure just how long he’d zoned out for. A quick check over his shoulder revealed his mom still pale and shivering behind him as the dimming of the lights and a slight stumble from the doorway alerted him to the fact that Emma was back in the room. The glass of water in her hand tilted dangerously as she reached out nudging him unnecessarily with her foot.

“Hey, kid. Turn the volume down a bit, ok? We haven’t all had as much sleep as your mom and some of us are gonna need a nap here.”

Looking up just long enough to note that Emma was for some reason now wearing one of his hoodies, he sighed slowly before pointedly turning his attention back to the TV. There was a brief pause in movement before Henry heard the unmistakeable sound of pills being swallowed, followed by a shuffling at which point he could no longer contain his curiosity. Glancing over his shoulder, Henry watched intently as Emma, now back in her regulation tank top, pulled his hoodie carefully over his mom’s head, easing her arms into it as if dressing a little kid, before gently helping her back into the fluffy robe that she normally reserved only for the most brutal days of Maine winter, and only then when she was sure there would be no unexpected visitors. Instead of the resistance he expected, his mom simply accepted the assistance, along with her new position leaning securely against Emma’s left shoulder.

As yet another set of commercials kicked in, Henry twisted his head round at the sound of movement once again behind him. Torn somewhere between concern and amusement he watched as Emma, with her free arm gestured theatrically toward the armchair in the corner of the room. Briefly raising an eyebrow, he smirked before hauling himself to his feet and grabbing the throw blanket folded neatly over its back. His expression shifted back to worry as he followed Emma’s gaze to his mom who, despite the layers of clothing, continued to shiver against her side. Shaking the blanket out, he handed one edge quietly to Emma before wrapping the fleecy material gently around his mom’ shoulders. His mom’s lack of response to this action only served to increase his unease, as did the undisguised worry on Emma’s face as she grabbed the cushion beside her, placing it on her lap before gently adjusting their position until his mom’s head rested comfortably upon it. Again, feeling witness to something more private between his two parents, Henry turned his attention once more to the TV.

Marking the time in his head, Henry figured that ten minutes was pretty good going when it came to containing his curiosity. Pulling himself to his knees, he shuffled closer to the sofa, his movements becoming more careful as he took in the closed eyes and slow steady breathing of his always in-control mom sleeping peacefully in his birth mom’s lap. As he caught Emma’s eye, she shrugged slightly before her attention focused once more on his mom.

Feeling the need to do something, Henry quietly took hold of the corner of the blanket hanging down from the sofa tucking it back around the sleeping women. At the movement, Regina mumbled slightly which was quickly followed by a reassuring shushing noise from Emma.

Biting back a grin, he shifted his focus to his birth mom, wondering idly if she even realised that the fingers of one hand were threaded through his mom’s hair, whilst the other rubbed soothingly up and down her back, the way his mom had done for him when he’d been sick as a kid. He figured that if she did, she seemed pretty comfortable with it, and either way it was kind of weird to mention it. Instead he swallowed slightly before whispering.

“Is she ok?”

At the question, Emma lifted her head giving him what he had come to consider her “mom smile”, before whispering back.

“She will be kid.” Her hand continued it steady motion across his mom’s back. “She just needs some rest.”

Henry nodded solemnly. “Can I do anything?”

Emma’s smile softened further before her gaze was once again drawn to Regina. “Just keep watching out for her like you do, kid.”

-/-

Having long since retreated to the arm chair with a dog eared copy of _Lord of the _Flies, the subject of which he was pretty sure his English teacher had either little clue about, or a wicked sense of humour, when adding it to the assigned reading list, Henry looked up at the slightly harried tone of his birth mom.

“Hey, Hen.” She looked around the room slightly frantically. “Any chance you can grab me that trash can?”

Glancing over, Henry was met by the sight of Emma, with a degree of urgency pushing his now semi-awake mom into an upright position, although clearly still leaning heavily against her. His mom swallowed convulsively a couple of times, her face almost green, which was all it took to spur him into action. Suddenly grateful for the obsessive housekeeping rituals, he grabbed the empty container, shoving it roughly in front of his mom who thankfully grabbed it from him as he backed quickly away grimacing.

His nose crinkling, he half watched as Emma, still weirdly comfortable with the entire situation murmured something quietly in his mom’s ear whilst somehow managing to both hold her steady and stop her puking in her own hair.

When it finally seemed safe to do so, Henry looked back up as Emma carefully pried the trash can from his mom’s grip, screwing her face up slightly, as she carefully placed it out of view. Catching his eye, she nodded in the direction of the door, and staircase before adjusting her grip on his mom who was now slumped against her.

His scepticism showing, Henry quirked an eyebrow. “Upstairs?”

His mom seemed to share his own doubts as she struggled against Emma’s pretty impressive effort at forcing them both into a standing position.

Briefly turning her attention away from his mom, Emma had just enough time to throw a scowl in his direction before her focus switched back to the other woman who was attempting with some force to escape the hold she was in and reclaim her place on the couch.

Henry watched closely as the glare on her face vanished, overtaken by an expression he could only describe as gentle.

“Sshh. You’re ok, Regina. We just need to get you back to bed ok. Then you can get some rest.”

Prepared for a contest, with a degree of amusement, Henry braced himself for the force that was his mom, even when she clearly had flu worse than his chemistry teacher who had nearly passed out on his own Bunsen burner earlier that week. Instead he was unable to hide his disbelief as his stubborn, independent mom instead seemed to relax, shifting backward to let Emma more easily bear her weight, her right hand settling absently over the one Emma had pressed securely around her middle.

Somewhat lost in thought, Henry followed the pair, as Emma steered his mom carefully through the door into the foyer and to the bottom of the stairs. His wandering mind was brought to an abrupt halt as his chin very nearly came into contact with the back of a blonde head. Dodging to the side he looked quizzically at Emma who was staring upwards with a strange look of trepidation.

“Some help would be good here, kid.”

-/-

It was at times like these Henry wished that Emma had taken her magic lessons with his mom a little more seriously. Sure, she could break curses, slay dragons and even move solar systems if the situation called for it. Yet for some reason, at all other times when magical ability would actually be useful, his biological mom either refused to use it, or more likely in this instance, seemed to completely forget that she even could.

With a look of worry that he was unable to hide, Henry glanced back to the step below him where Emma was exerting a significant amount of effort in half lifting, half pushing as she propelled them both up the staircase. With the time and energy this process seemed to be taking, Henry was itching to point out that with a wave of a hand, or blink of an eye, or whatever it was that her own particular brand of magic responded to, Emma could have sent the pair to their destination in seconds. However, the look of concern on her face, as despite her own obvious discomfort, she maintained a steady flow of gentle reassurance for his unsteady, exhausted looking mom, had him biting his tongue.

Once he was confident that Emma had the stair situation under control, Henry took the opportunity to forge ahead, ducking into his mom’s room. At the very least he could pull back the sheets making that part of the job easier for Emma, and besides his mom, when she was feeling better would feel bad enough that she had let Emma take care of her, and he wasn’t sure he could withstand the guilt that he too had been a key witness to what his mom would no doubt see as such an open display of weakness. Job done he stuck his head out of the door to see the truly odd sight of his moms hugging in the hallway. Emma seemed reluctant to let go, and only when Henry cleared his throat, did she release her grip and steer his mom into the room. Not wanting to hang around, he let Emma half shove him out into the hallway with reassurances that his mom would be fine, loitering only long enough to watch her practically tuck his mom into bed before perching next to her. Shaking his head in disbelief, he headed to the sanctuary of his room.

-/-

Figuring he should quit playing video games and be the semi-responsible teen expected of him, Henry went in search of Emma to tell her he was heading to bed, and also to check on his mom. Guessing that would be one and the same, he quietly pushed open the door to his mom’s room to find the windows thrown open, a frantic Emma and his mom propped upright, shivering, her bathrobe and hoodie discarded, clearly by his other mom, possibly in some kind of struggle, and launched across the room.

When Emma looked up, her expression was one of pure relief.

“Kid. Thank god. Can you go find something I can use to bring your mom’s temperature down?”

As he turned to leave, he heard the familiar scrambling of Emma retrieving her cell from her jeans pocket, followed by desperate tapping on the screen. Once more shaking his head, he closed the door to the panicked tone of Emma’s voice speaking urgently into the phone.

“Mom. I need your help……”

**Wednesday**

Yawning loudly, Henry pulled on his backpack, staring pointedly at Emma through the open door of Regina’s bedroom as he slouched past. Whilst he accepted that his mom having flu was not an acceptable reason to skip school, he had felt sure that being kept awake for large parts of the night by his other mom, worrying about his mom having flu, was more than a valid justification to at least miss first period algebra. But apparently, according to Emma, who he guessed was really not one to talk, it wasn’t, so to school he was headed.

Feeling slightly guilty, he hovered for a moment, watching as Emma, who was now back in her position perched protectively next to his mom, smoothed a hand over her hair as she shuffled and mumbled. With the motion, his mom seemed to settle, as Emma sighed quietly, the back of her hand drifting down his mom’s face. Sensing an idea forming in his brain, he quietly slipped down the stairs and out of the front door.

Still deep in thought, he jumped, as he looked up at the gate only to come face to face with his grams. Despite the early hour, Snow smiled brightly. In one hand she had a bag of what looked like Emma’s clothes, and in the other balanced several tupperware containers of an oddly coloured soup like substance.

Nodding at him to grab the gate, she bumbled through, still grinning.

“How’s your mom doing?”

Henry fixed her with an expression that even he knew formed a strong argument for nurture over nature.

“Which one?”

Snow’s smile shifted to one, which Henry could barely recall seeing in person. However, it did look familiar from the outlaw chapters of a certain picture book.

“Emma seems really committed to looking after Regina.”

Henry nodded, evenly. His face impassive, or at least he hoped so. “They’re really close, I guess.”

“It seems so.” Her eyes watched Henry closely.

Shifting back to her best Mary Margaret disposition, his grandmother bustled past him, shifting the weight of the containers as she let herself in.

“Everyone needs a good friend, right?” Looking over she shoulder she smiled cheerfully as he closed the gate behind him. “Have a great day at school, Henry. And don’t worry about your moms. They’ll both be just fine.”

-/-

Once again in the sanctity of his own bedroom, Henry had barely had time to locate the controller for his Xbox, stashed for some reason between his history book and a two-day old sock, before there was a knock on the door. He groaned inwardly at the interruption, cursing his habitual need to finish his homework before taking up any distractions. Both endeavours had today, however, been interrupted when he returned home to find that his mom was no better than earlier, and following a brief visit to her room, during which she had been barely awake and guarded heavily by an almost possessive Emma, he had been sent without fanfare to Granny’s in search of what Emma deemed ‘proper food’.

Upon his return he had rushed through a geography paper, which couldn’t seem to make its mind up as to whether students should learn more about the states of the US or the kingdoms of Fairy Tale Land, only to then be greeted by his grandmother hovering outside his bedroom door.

Peering inside as he beckoned her in, he saw her eyes glance briefly between the scribbled homework and the now located console, offering nothing more than a knowing smile. Henry once again felt grateful that whilst Snow seemed to like to play mother to half of the town without any consideration as to whether this was wanted or needed, she somehow had the wisdom to avoid any real parenting clashes with either Regina or Emma.

“What’s up, grams? How’s mom?”

At the question, the smirk that he had witnessed that morning made a reappearance for a second before again vanishing behind the familiar smile.

“I’m sure she’ll be feeling much better in a couple of days, don’t worry, Henry.” There was a flicker in her eyes once again. “I’m sure Emma will continue to take really good care of her.” The expression was gone again. “Anyway, I just wanted to say goodbye before I head home for the night.” She nodded almost conspiratorially in the direction of Regina’s bedroom. “I’m sure your moms have had enough of me hanging around, so I thought I’d give them some alone time.” She shook her head, as if checking herself. “Anyway, good night, Henry.”

As the door closed behind her, Henry couldn’t help the eye roll that followed. He was starting to think that maybe he needed to have a talk with…. someone.

**Thursday**

Hastily shoving what he hoped was his math homework into his bag, Henry resolutely pushed open his bedroom door and headed toward the clattering sound drifting up from the kitchen. Having allowed the idea to percolate overnight, his inquisitive synapses were firing, and images from the last few years had without warning snapped together in a jigsaw, forming a picture that suddenly seemed so obvious he had actually laughed out loud. 

Whilst he was pretty sure, from the evidence available, that his grandmother had formed the same conclusion, a fact he fully intended to verify, what he was not so certain of was whether either of his mom’s had yet to realise what now seemed so clear. And with one suspect out of bounds, at least for a day or two, Henry had a clear target in his sights.

“Morning, mom.”

If his overly bright tone was a warning, Emma took no heed as pushed her empty coffee mug onto the kitchen counter, perilously close to the edge, and turned wearily toward him.

“Hey, kid.”

Noting her jeans, jacket and anxious expression, he concentrated on keeping his face and voice casual, whilst seeking out eye contact.

“Going to work?”

Emma paused for a moment before nodding. Her eyes narrowed slightly at her son’s tone, and for a moment Henry doubted the success of his ambush, until his mom’s gaze darted to her cell phone on the table between them which was beginning to buzz. Snatching it up, she quickly silenced it, her gaze flickering subconsciously to the stairs behind him.

Realising her distraction, she smiled apologetically. “Sorry, it’s time for your mom to take some more pills.”

Henry nodded understandingly; his concern genuine. “Is she any better?”

“Pretty much the same as yesterday, kid.” His mom sighed, before smiling. “But don’t worry, Hen. She’ll be back to her normal kick-ass self before you know it.”

Shaking off his worry to get back on task, Henry caught Emma’s eye, attempting to frame his features and tone into neutrality.

“You really care a lot about mom, don’t you?”

With a twinge of regret, Henry watched Emma’s expression morph in rapid succession from confusion to hurt before finally resting on an emotion that Henry was not sure he’d ever seen there but couldn’t quite read.

“Of-course I care about Regina.”

There was a waver to her voice that Henry didn’t like, and the spark of guilt began to flicker. Taking a step forward, he lowered his head for a moment before again meeting his mom’s eyes.

“I just mean, the way you’re looking out for her…”

His mom swallowed. Turning back to the coffee mug on the side, she placed it with a surprising gentleness into the sink. But, not before the early light beginning to shine through the window next to her danced across eyes that had started to glisten with moisture.

However, before Henry could abort his mission completely, Emma turned back to him, the determination in her face comfortingly familiar.

“We look out for each other, kid.” Her tone was earnest, and Henry’s guilt sparked into a flame. “It’s what Regina and I do.”

Before Henry could respond, the back door jiggled before swinging forcefully open and a harried Snow White spilled into the kitchen.

“Sorry, I’m late, Emma.” She smiled widely upon seeing her grandson. “Good morning, Henry.”

The earlier moment, to Henry’s immense relief, seemingly broken, Emma sighed once again.

“No problem. Thanks for coming over again.” Grabbing a towel from the side, she dried the now clean mug with a degree of force. “I wasn’t gonna go in today until dad called last night.” At Snow’s slightly puzzled expression, she continued. “He just kept rambling about not having time to get his paperwork done.” Emma looked confused for a second. “And nursery rhymes.” She shrugged, mindlessly placing the mug back in its rightful cupboard. “Anyway, he sounded kinda mad, so I should probably get moving.”

Henry noticed the sudden flash of culpability on his grandmother’s face, but kept his mouth shut. Instead, Snow smiled brightly.

“So, how is the patient this morning?”

Emma cringed slightly at the question, but either his grams didn’t notice, or didn’t much care.

“She didn’t sleep great.” Emma yawned widely. “So, she didn’t give me much sleep either.”

Henry chose this moment to look up, unintentionally meeting his grandmother’s eye. At the smirk that glinted behind it, he quickly looked away, wondering hazily whether his mom had a potion to hand which would delete that specific memory, as Snow raised an eyebrow in her daughter’s direction.

“It sounds like you’ve been taking really good care of her.” Snow’s smile grew sweeter still. “She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

Henry readjusted the backpack on his shoulders looking longingly at the back door.

His mom looked away uncomfortably. “I’d do the same for anyone.” Her eyes shifted around the kitchen avoiding the watchful gaze of his grandmother. “Anyway, I’ve got some sheriff-ing to do, so I’m looking forward to getting out of this house for a few hours.”

The response would have been more convincing if his mom’s attention didn’t flick every few seconds in the direction of the open door to the foyer and the stairs to the bedrooms above.

Snow nodded, making an empathetic mumble of agreement, but Henry could see the smirk beneath that she was still struggling to contain.

“Of course, sweetheart.” Turning her back toward her daughter, she placed her bag on the kitchen table and began casually emptying a few items. “Now, why don’t you go check on Regina before you head off. Just in case.”

Watching his mom, practically sprint from the kitchen up the stairs, Henry grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and made his move toward the door. However, before he could slip through, he was halted by a piercing voice from behind.

“Henry.”

He turned to see his grandmother observing him shrewdly. If any residual Mary Margaret Blanchard was lurking beneath the exterior, she was well-hidden.

“So, your moms seem to be getting on well, huh?”

Henry nodded mutely, eyeing her cautiously.

Snow smiled again; her gaze pinned to him. “They really are so close these days, aren’t they?”

Henry shrugged cautiously, meeting her stare. “They are.”

“They care a lot for each other.” She tilted her head, and Henry fought the urge to take a step back. “Everyone should be as lucky to have a true _friend_ like that, shouldn’t they?” Snow was watching him closely, her smile unwavering.

Henry allowed himself a breath before levelling Snow with his own casual smirk. “Maybe one day, they’ll realise how lucky they are.”

As he finally made it to the door, his grandmother nodded; seemingly satisfied by his response.

“Well, you have a good day at school, Henry.”

Turning away, Snow’s attention went back to the contents of her purse now strewn across the table, as Henry made his escape.

-/-

The house was once again quiet as Henry entered the foyer. Having made an impromptu, but prudent detour to Granny’s on the way home, only to save his moms from having to feed him of course, it was now over an hour later than his usual return, and the fact he had yet to receive a single panicked text to rule out any potential kidnapping or portal incident was telling in itself. Shoving his backpack on the kitchen table, he headed up the stairs, attempting to ignore the niggling apprehension as to what was awaiting him. He had taken some relief in the observation that his grandparent’s truck was nowhere to be seen and the only car on the street outside was Emma’s bug.

As he rounded the corner, he could hear faint murmurings coming from his mom’s room. Shaking off his relief at noting the open door, he headed toward the source of the sound. Peering apprehensively into the room, he choked back a burst of laughter at the sight before him. His mom was buried under what looked like a dozen blankets. Despite the cocoon, he was relieved to see that she was at least partly awake. However, what consciousness she had was clearly focussed on the blonde figure perched protectively next to her on the bed. Henry watched as his mom’s hand managed to somehow against the odds escape from its fluffy prison, reaching absently for the fingers that continued to tuck the bedding gently around her. In response, Emma smiled, taking his mom’s hand and continuing to speak softly, words that Henry could not make out, but were clearly having the desired effect as Regina’s eyes drifted closed.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Henry slipped past, idly wondering at what point in the evening anyone would notice he was home.

**Friday**

Unlike the previous morning when his curiosity had been well and truly piqued by the behaviour of his moms, as Henry emerged from his bedroom ready to face the final school day slog of the week, he was pretty confident what he was going to find.

Expertly dodging the one creaky floorboard that no amount of magic seemed capable of fixing, he again peered into his mom’s room. Though the door was ajar, the light from the hallway made only a dent into the early morning dark. However, the image before him was clear. Sprawled on her back, one arm hanging loosely off the bed, was a softly snoring Emma, a vision with which Henry was all too well-versed from their days cramped in his grandparents’ loft. Yet the sight which drew his attention was that of his other mom curled tightly against her, dark hair splayed across her shoulder and an arm curved over her. His gaze travelled to Emma’s other arm which was tucked carefully beneath his mom’s back holding her close, as if it was the most natural position in the world.

Feeling the sudden need to help them shut the world out for a little longer, he gently pulled the door closed, before heading to school with a feeling of balance that he couldn’t quite explain.

-/-

The image of the waving figure of Snow White, grinning manically from her truck, that greeted Henry outside the school gate as the final bell rang was, he pondered, the opposite of balance. However, it did, he figured, mean a ride home, so he’d just have to deal with it.

Sliding into the front beside his grandmother, he eyed her cautiously, mentally preparing for another round of not so cryptic discussion about his moms. However, as she turned the ignition and pulled out in the direction of Mifflin Street, Snow was suspiciously quiet. Unable to take it any longer, Henry turned with the intention of quizzing his grams over her shifting personality, to be halted by the realisation that she looked genuinely lost in thought. Moving instead to fiddle with the old radio dial, he settled on a station playing some kind of weird country music that he knew his grams liked, before leaning his head against the window watching the familiar streets pass slowly by.

What with Storybrook being barely larger than postage stamp, it was only a couple of minutes later that they pulled up outside his house. As Snow put the truck in park, Henry shifted to open the door but was stopped by a cautious hand on his arm. Turning to look back at his grandmother, he was genuinely surprised by the pensive look on her face.

“Is everything ok?” Henry couldn’t help the worry that crept into his voice.

Snow smiled, and the expression was, for once, genuinely reassuring. “Of course, Henry.”

She hesitated for a moment before looking Henry up and down, as she seemed to reach a decision. When she spoke again her tone was serious but sincere.

“Don’t give them a hard time, ok?”

At his lack of response, her face softened. “Your moms, they…” She paused, pensive for a moment. “When you’ve never truly experienced something…” She stopped again, as if considering her words, “it can be hard to recognise it when it’s right in front of you.” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “And I know you’re old enough to appreciate the irony of this coming from me, but it’s not your story to tell, ok?”

Before Henry could form a response, her smile brightened and she pushed open the door, hopping lightly out of the truck and heading toward his house without looking back.

His brain still catching up with his body, Henry stumbled out of the vehicle reaching the front door just as Snow was letting herself in. Wondering briefly when it became normal that his grandmother had her own key to his mom’s house, the distraction was enough for him to be brought to an abrupt halt by the open door of the living room. As he opened his mouth to object to the interruption, he looked up to see Snow raising a finger to her lips and pointing not to subtly in the direction of the room.

Peering past her, he couldn’t stop the grin that spread at the sight of his moms dozing on the sofa, his mom’s head resting in Emma’s lap as the TV played quietly in the background.

Forcing himself not to stare, he turned back to face his grandmother, the earlier seriousness from the car seemingly forgotten as a flash of mirth sparkled in her eyes. Shrugging slightly, she reached out taking his shoulder, steering him gently back in the direction of the kitchen as she turned for a moment, closing the living room door gently behind her.

_/End of part one_


	2. Snow

**Monday**

Sitting in Granny’s, the late afternoon sun, streaming through the slightly dirty window, Snow White sighed to herself, reaching for her phone. Emma was late. Which was nothing new in itself. From the brief time she’d spent with her daughter over the last few years, time keeping, she had learned, was not one of Emma’s strengths. However, there was Emma-late, and a portal just opened up to another world and I got sucked through, late. And sometimes it was difficult not to jump to the conclusion of the latter.

The bell over the diner door dinged lazily and Snow looked up to see her grandson enter. On spotting her, he headed toward her, lugging his backpack onto the seat opposite and dropping down next to it.

“Grams?”

Still stewing about Emma, and space-time portals, Snow forced a smile.

“Hi, Henry. How was school?”

Henry shrugged, and Snow fought her natural irritation with the action, a throwback, she guessed from her cursed teacher days.

“It was ok. Are you waiting for Emma?”

Figuring that if her daughter had been sucked through a portal, her grandson wouldn’t be acting so casual, Snow’s smile grew.

“Yes, she was meant to meet me here fifteen minutes ago, but she must be running late. Have you seen her?”

Henry looked guilty for a moment.

“I was worried about mom, so Emma was going to check in with her. She might still be there.”

Snow felt her worry flood back. “Is Regina ok?”

Another flash of guilt crossed her grandson’s face, before his expression morphed into one that was distinctly her ex-stepmother.

“I think she’s sick, but she wouldn’t tell me, so Emma was gonna go see her. I’ll text her.”

So, that explained her daughter’s absence. Snow fought back what she suspected was an inappropriate grin, grasping for the nearest distraction.

“Well then it looks like I’ve been stood up in favour of Regina, so what do you say you and I grab some fries and ice-cream and we don’t tell your moms?”

The technique appeared to work, as Henry grinned back. “Cool.”

A phone vibrated, and Snow habitually reached for her purse. Noting the blank screen, she looked up to see Henry waving his own phone in her face with a text from Emma.

_‘Yeah with ur mom. She’s sick but ok. Gonna stay here. Can u stay with ur grandparents 2nite?’_

Once again unable to fully contain a smirk, she fired back a message of her own to her daughter.

_‘Is Regina ok? Can I help?”_

Looking back up she could see the impressed look on her grandson’s face and gave a nonchalant shrug of her own.

Interrupting the mini victory dance in her head, her cell buzzed one more. Emma.

_‘Just a migraine but a bad 1 I think. Gonna stay here just in case. Sorry about dinner. Can Henry stay with u 2nite?’_

Snow paused for a moment. She could feel the bubble of an idea rising in her stomach, dampened only by the look she could imagine on her husband’s face, telling her to mind her own business. However, that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little fun.

_‘Of course, Emma. Henry here now. Take care of Regina. Love you. Mom x’._

Turning her attention back to her grandson, she smiled once more.

“Well it looks like you were right, Henry. Emma says Regina has a migraine so are you ok to stay with David and I at the loft tonight?”

For a moment, Henry looked hesitant, and Snow felt like she was being tested, as she searched for an appropriate response.

“It’s ok, Henry. Emma’s staying with Regina so we both know she’ll be fine.”

She breathed an internal sigh of relief as this appeared to appease him and he grinned happily.

“So, what is it you were saying about ice-cream for dinner?”

**Tuesday**

David was still at work, covering for their daughter who had been not so mysteriously AWOL since the mayor took ill, and it had just taken Snow the better part of ninety minutes to get their son to sleep on her own. As she sat down to pour a large glass of wine, for medicinal purposes of course, before heading to bed herself, she startled at the tune being emitted, seemingly from one of her kitchen cupboards. Identifying the source as her phone, how it had ended up in with the canned goods would remain a mystery, she was somewhat alarmed to see that the caller was Emma.

Whilst part of her debated simply ignoring it and feigning innocence whilst enjoying her Chardonnay in peace, her better side won out and she swiped to answer.

“Hey, sweetie. You ok?”

There was a brief pause and Snow could hear some kind of commotion going in the background.

“Mom.” Emma sounded panicked, which in Snow’s experience was never good. “I need your help.”

Feeling her own adrenalin kick in, Snow scanned her apartment, locating with ease her bow and arrow, whilst simultaneously lining up in her head a list of tough yet reliable babysitters for Neal.

Her train of thought was cut short, as her daughter’s voice, rising at least one more octave, came back through the speaker.

“Regina has a fever and her temperature’s really high.” There was more background noise. “I opened all the windows and Henry’s trying to find something to cool her down. I… I don’t know what to do to help her.”

The initial panic wearing off, Snow did her best not to chuckle out loud at the dilemma that had her daughter more freaked out than when she came face-to-face with her first ogre.

“Oh, and I made sure to take her clothes off.”

The snort that Snow emitted was not subtle. She attempted to mask it with a cough, but Emma was so absorbed in her trauma that she didn’t appear to notice. Instead Snow shrugged to herself, and instead focussed on both trying to get her daughter’s attention and making sure she was taking the matter sufficiently seriously when she did.

“Emma.”

Her daughter continued to mutter unintelligibly.

“Emma!”

This time there was silence, followed by a plaintive, “I don’t know what else to do.”

Feeling the need to take control of the conversation, and not only because it was the only way it was ever going to end and allow her to get back to her drink, Snow sighed, putting on her best no-nonsense mom voice.

“Honey, she’ll be fine.” So far, so good. “You’ve done all the right things.” Emma sniffed in response. “Now you just need to keep an eye on her and keep her hydrated.” There was a mumbled acknowledgement. “If you think she’s getting worse and you’re really worried, call a doctor.”

Genuinely relieved that her daughter seemed to be calming down, and now a little concerned herself about Regina’s health, Snow sighed.

“If she’s no better in the morning, I can come over if you’d like.” As the words slipped from her mouth, Snow cringed. She’d promised David that for once she would take Neal to his ‘Mommy and Me’ class rather than her husband. Oh, well, it wasn’t like Emma was going to…

“Thanks, mom, that’d be great.”

Damn it. Again, modulating her voice, Snow sighed. “Of course, sweetie. No problem. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Hanging up the call, Snow reached for her glass, resignedly knocking it back in one. Feeling a sudden wave of compassion for her daughter, and a glowing hint of pride that for once she was actually needed, she quietly made her way to the nursery where her son was sleeping. Staring at him in the soft light, she felt the same tug of emotion as she had to her adult daughter. His blanket had slipped off him, and she caught the edge of it, cooing at him softly.

“You’re not going to go insane over a girl, are you honey.” Neal gurgled in his sleep and Snow smiled thankfully before tucking the covers back over him. “No, sweetie, no you’re not.”

**Wednesday**

“Where are you going this early?”

Snow looked around guiltily as her dishevelled husband emerged from their bedroom. He’d finally crawled at around two in the morning, muttering something about dwarves, pickaxes and tequila, and she had thought it best to let him sleep. That, and once she was gone, there was little he could do about it.

Cringing, she smiled hesitantly. “Um, Emma called last night, really worried about Regina. It sounds like she’s really sick, so she asked me to go over there to help out.”

David looked sceptical. “She asked you? Really?”

Snow puffed up her chest, glaring at him. “Well, I offered, and she said yes. So, it’s almost same thing.”

Conceding defeat, David sighed, before a glint appeared in his eyes. “So, Emma’s dropped everything to take care of Regina, huh?”

Schooling her features, Snow look reproachingly at her husband. “David, we cannot interfere in our daughter’s love life.” Or lack of one, she added to herself. “Our daughter is a caring person.”

The scepticism remained on David’s face, but he said nothing.

Snow smiled brightly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, our daughter needs me.” She grabbed the bags she had packed from next to the front door, before pulling it open. “Oh, and don’t forget Neal has to be at the community centre by ten o’clock sharp.”

Ignoring the forlorn look of her husband, she turned and waved as his desperate plea fell on deaf ears.

“But, please, I hate ‘Mommy and Me’.”

-/-

Dropping inelegantly out of the truck, Snow grasped the holdall, containing a random selection of Emma’s clothes from the apartment, pulling it with her. The grocery bag in which she’d piled containers of emergency soup retrieved from the depths of the freezer, had broken somewhere along the journey, so she balanced them on her other arm as well as she could. The food selection, she noted, was somewhat eclectic, even for her. But she figured Regina would turn her nose up at it, simply because of its origin, so why waste the good stuff.

As she was figuring out how to now open the gate, she looked up to find her grandson once again in front of her. He didn’t look particularly happy, so she did her best to smile cheerily, as he opened the gate for her.

“How’s your mom doing?”

Henry’s face shifted once again to an expression that was both amused and scathing, and frighteningly Regina.

“Which one?”

Getting the distinct impression that her grandson was truly no longer the innocent kid she had watched grow up, Snow didn’t bother to contain her smirk. She watched Henry carefully as she spoke.

“Emma seems really committed to looking after Regina.”

Henry’s eyes narrowed, and he looked at her with equal scrutiny as he nodded slowly. “They’re really close, I guess.”

“It seems so.” Neither blinked.

Suddenly realising it was probably too early to be going head-to-head with her grandson with regard to scheming, Snow forced her default jollity to the surface. Shuffling the containers, she brushed past him toward the front door. However, unable to let it go completely she threw one final comment over her shoulder.

“Everyone needs a good friend, right?” At Henry’s unguarded reaction, she couldn’t help but smile more widely. “Have a great day at school, Henry. And don’t worry about your moms. They’ll both be just fine.”

-/-

Finding the lower floor abandoned, Snow quickly ditched her supplies and made her way up the stairs of the mayoral mansion. Having been this far into what she had always deemed enemy territory, only once or twice, she paused for a moment before hearing murmuring coming from an open door down the hallway. Steeling herself, she closed her eyes briefly, before heading in the direction of the noise.

As she peered through the door, she felt an unexpected wave of pride as she took in the sight before her. Emma was perched on the edge of the bed, one hand lightly gripping Regina’s, whilst the other held a washcloth, moving it between Regina’s brow and her neck as she whispered soft reassurances. Regina, for the most part was still, except for the occasional shiver. She seemed to mumble each time the cloth touched her fevered skin, stopping only as Emma soothed her gently. Her face was unnaturally flushed, and Snow was fairly certain that she would have little idea that Snow was even there.

As Regina seemed to settle for a moment, Emma looked up, genuine relief written across her face, as she beckoned Snow further into the room. As she stood, awkwardly beside her, Emma’s expression shifted to one of guilt. As she whispered her focus darted subconsciously between Snow and the woman in her care.

“Mom. Thanks for coming.” She paused briefly. “I was gonna call you to say don’t bother, but I think her temperature must’ve gone up again, as she seems even sicker than she did last night. And…”

Emma trailed off and Snow fought the urge to pull she daughter into a hug there and then. Despite public opinion, she did have some boundaries.

Instead, she crouched down beside the bed, placing the back of her hand lightly against Regina’s forehead. The heat being emitted was intense and Snow felt more than a flutter of worry. Keeping her voice calm, she smiled at her daughter.

“Why don’t we check her temperature, ok? Then we can wake her up to take some medication.”

Emma nodded mutely, before pulling herself up gently from the edge of the bed, repositioning herself on the empty side of the luxurious queen size. Propped against the wall was a pile of pillows that the blonde quickly made herself comfortable against, and Snow couldn’t help but note that they looked like they had been arranged there for some time. Oblivious to the observations of her mother, she went quickly back to smoothing stray hair from Regina’s face, whilst looking helplessly at Snow.

Back somewhat in her comfort zone, Snow smiled, digging around in her purse until she pulled out a thermometer. Okay, so it was a kid’s one, with an elephant and a train decorating it, but Regina was out of it, and never had to know, and she had to work with what she had. Attempting, and failing, not to take pride in the look of gratitude being thrown her way by her impressed daughter, Snow took the device, placing it gently in Regina’s ear. Regina mumbled, stirring restlessly, and Snow watched as Emma automatically reached for her. The device beeped.

Carefully removing the thermometer, Snow looked at once, then again, hoping her expression didn’t give away the fact that Regina’s temperature was way too high, and if they couldn’t get it down, she would have to be the bearer of bad news to Emma that they did in fact need a doctor. Instead, she smiled kindly, addressing her daughter quietly.

“Why don’t we wake her up, ok, so she can take some medicine to bring her temperature down.”

For some reason, Emma seemed strangely mute, so Snow took it upon herself, calling the other woman’s name, softly.

“Regina.” No response. “Regina.” Again nothing. Snow could feel her own anxiety rising. “Regina, it’s me, Snow.” Still nothing. Just as she could feel Emma’s panic starting to emerge, there was a small murmur from Regina. Not sure what else to do, Snow took gentle hold of the arm sticking out toward her, squeezing the fingers and letting her own hand trail softly up and down. “I know you want to sleep but can you try and open your eyes for a minute.”

Regina sighed, one eye opening blearily for a second. Snow was so relieved, she kept hold of the hand still lying in hers. “Hey there. I know you’re not feeling too good right now, and I’m sorry about that, but remember when I was a little girl and you let me take care of you that time you got sick, well I need you to let me do that right now ok, so it would be really great if you could just open your eyes for me a little.”

Regina blinked heavily, her eyes focusing briefly on Snow before her gaze found Emma’s.

“Hey.” Although addressing Regina’s, Emma’s eyes met Snow’s gratefully for a moment. “Geez, you had us worried there for a minute.”

Regina seemed confused, staring dazedly at Emma. Trying to get a gauge of her alertness, Snow tried again. “How are you feeling?”

The older woman again looked confused. Before Snow could continue, she bit back a smile as Emma once again took up the role of saviour, or more appropriately, comforter, as she ran a hand up and down Regina’s arm speaking softly.

“Does your head hurt?” Regina nodded wearily. “Cold?” Another nod. “Generally feel like complete crap?” This at least earned an eyebrow raise.

Emma’s hand seemed permanently attached to Regina.

“Yeah well it looks like you’ve managed to get yourself a pretty nasty case of flu and you have quite a fever going on here which would pretty much explain all of that.”

As Regina shivered, Emma turned back to Snow with the now familiar expression of worry. Snow held in an eye roll and instead motioned to Emma that she should help Regina upright. Obeying, Emma’s attention switched back, her tone gentler still.

“Come on, let’s sit you up for a minute.”

Snow watched, now mildly amused, as the pliable former Evil Queen let the Saviour lift her into a seated position, supporting her there. Rummaging in her bag once more, Snow produced a bottle of painkillers, struggling only briefly with the childproof cap, before placing two of the pills in Regina’s hand. With only a nod from Emma, the older woman popped the pills in her mouth. Realising her daughter was not going to release her grip anytime soon, Snow had no choice but to grab the glass of water on the bedside table, feeding a mouthful hesitantly to Regina.

As Snow turned away to replace the water, she caught Emma, out of the corner of her eye gracing Regina’s hairline with a gentle kiss as the woman nestled against her. Swallowing back a snigger, Snow took a moment longer than necessary positioning the glass, turning back only when she was happy her face was under control. As she did so, she watched incredulously as Emma carefully shifted both herself and Regina back, so they lay _snuggled_ together, Regina’s eyes already drifting closed. No longer seeing the point in disguising her disbelief, Snow shook her head, muttering to no one in particular.

“I’ll be in the kitchen.”

-/-

Glancing at her watch, Snow cast a look up the stairs. Henry had returned from school several hours earlier and, after being used for a food run to Granny’s, had disappeared to his room in the guise of homework. Snow’s own day had been spent reading magazines and watching daytime TV, interspersed with the occasional check on Emma, and Regina whose temperature had continued to fluctuate. And whilst she had enjoyed the child free, well apart from her adult child, day, she was starting to feel just a little guilty for abandoning Neal to her husband.

Her reverie was broken by the sound of Henry stomping around above and resolving to simply say good night and head home, she set off up the stairs. Cracking open the door to bid her daughter good night, she was instead greeted by the sight of a restless Regina, drenched in sweat and fighting an invisible enemy in her sleep. The snoring being emitted from the other side of the bed told her that Emma would be no use. Without thinking, Snow slipped into the room, pulling up the chair to the side of the bed and gently running her hand up and down Regina’s arm, and over her hair, coaxing her out of the grip of her dream. It took several seconds but as Regina opened her eyes, the fear in them made Snow’s heart lurch in a way she couldn’t explain, and she quickly withdrew the contact. As recognition drifted back and Regina’s eyes settled on Snow, the relief in her expression was unguarded as she blinked back tears. Snow once again found herself reaching for her former stepmother’s hand squeezing gently. When Regina’s eyes drifted closed once more, Snow reached over, carefully placing the back of her other hand against a damp forehead.

“Hey. I think your fever’s broken.”

Forcing her eyes open, Regina seemed to notice the presence of Emma next to her for the first time and looked at Snow with an expression of panic. Biting back yet another smirk, Snow nodded.

“Don’t worry, Emma’s fine. That girl can sleep through anything. She just wanted you to get some rest.” She sat back in the chair making herself comfortable. “How are you feeling?”

Regina paused. For a moment Snow thought she would attempt to lie, but instead she sighed. “Abysmal, dear.”

Snow felt her sympathy welling up again.

“I hear the flu can do that to you. Emma’s been keeping an eye on you, but she didn’t want you to be on your own if you needed anything when you woke up.” She found herself watching carefully for Regina’s reaction. “She knew you’d be feeling, pretty ‘shitty’,” she smiled self-consciously, “her words, obviously, when you woke up and she didn’t want to risk you not being able to get back to sleep right away. So here we are.”

When she took a breath, Regina was looking at her oddly, although thankfully, not murderously.

“And tell me Snow, how come you _are_ here?”

Feeling for once like she may have the upper hand, Snow simply smiled. “Because it takes a lot to make my extremely independent daughter panic enough to make her believe she needs her parents.” For a second, she let her guard slip at the thought, but recovered, she hoped, quickly. “However, this was one of those rare occasions where something, or some_one_ made her worry enough to do that, and I would be even more of an idiot than you think I am, to not show up.”

Regina’s eyes were closing again, and she seemed to be having difficulty focussing. Realising that, for today at least, she was no real sparring partner, Snow felt her sympathy once again take over. Reaching over, she placed her hand back on the older woman’s forehead, noting that it again felt uncomfortably warm.

“Hey. Stay with me for a minute ok. Your fever might have broken but your temperature’s still up and down, and I’m guessing you’d feel better to get some dry clothes on.” For some reason, Regina again looked panic stricken, and Snow found herself reaching for her hand. “I just want you to feel better, ok?”

Realising that this was not a job she wished to attempt alone, she shuffled over, prodding her daughter more aggressively than was possibly required. With a snigger she watched as Emma jerked up, her first reaction to pull Regina closer, waving blindly until she located her face.

“Hey. I’m awake. What’s wrong? Are you ok?”

Attempting a slightly unconvincing cough, Snow moved, patting her daughter’s leg reassuringly.

“Emma, it’s fine. Regina’s awake and her fever’s down a little, but we agreed that she’d feel better if she could change out of her damp clothes.”

Her daughter, however, still seemed to be holding Regina in some sort of death grip, as she shifted, concentrating only on Regina.

“Hey, you. It’s good to see you awake.”

At the smile that this earned from the other woman, Snow could only roll her eyes, missing the quiet exchange that passed between them, noting only that Emma’s grip tightened further as a consequence.

Lacking the stomach for anything more, Snow cleared her throat. She knew she was smirking, but she didn’t really care.

“Emma, why don’t you help Regina to sit up, ok?”

Purposefully turning away, Snow busied herself with checking her messages, of which she had several, mounting in hostility from her husband. Saving that problem for later, she switched focus to locating some clean clothes for Regina. Several drawers later, she grabbed an oversized shirt, which looked more like something Emma would wear. Shrugging, she decided it would do. When she turned back around, Regina was still prone, looking sorrier for herself than Snow could ever recall seeing her, as Emma stood awkwardly beside her. Rolling her eyes, she fixed a stare at her daughter, before shaking her head.

“Emma, honey. Why don’t you go grab me some clean washcloths, ok, sweetie? I’ll take care of the rest.”

As her daughter shuffled off to the bathroom, Snow turned her attention to Regina, holding up the clothing. The other woman was looking at her blankly. Not without frustration, Snow motioned for her to remove her top and replace it with the proffered shirt. When there was still no reaction, she sighed heavily, staring pointedly at the bathroom before looking back at Regina. Keeping her voice low, after all there was no need to embarrass her daughter as well as Regina, not today anyway, she smiled cockily.

“Get changed ok. I thought, all things considered, if anyone was going to see you naked in this state, it should probably be me.” Her lips quirked further. “And as inappropriate as this may be, you can thank me later.”

Still staring at her, Regina took the shirt, clumsily changing into it. As Emma emerged from the bathroom, all that was left to see was the confused face of Regina gaping at Snow, whose expression was now fixed in a perpetual smirk as she slipped out of the door.

“I’m going to check on Henry, so I’ll leave you two to it, ok?”

Closing the door behind, her, Snow allowed herself a quick chuckle before heading to her grandson’s room and knocking quietly. As she stuck her head inside, there was evidence of homework scattered around the room, and the lack of functioning parent for a few days was evident in the piles of washing that had mounted up. Happy to leave that for his moms to deal with, she smiled at Henry who nodded in response.

“What’s up, grams? How’s mom?”

Considering her response for a moment, Snow smiled a little too innocently. Her grandson really wasn’t an idiot.

“I’m sure she’ll be feeling much better in a couple of days, don’t worry, Henry.” She no longer bothered to control her expression. “I’m sure Emma will continue to take really good care of her.”

She smiled genuinely at the teenager. “Anyway, I just wanted to say goodbye before I head home for the night. I’m sure your moms have had enough of me hanging around, so I thought I’d give them some alone time.” Her grandson was watching her carefully. “Anyway, good night, Henry.”

Making her way down the stairs and out of the front door, suddenly the thought of an irate husband and screaming baby didn’t seem all that bad.

**Thursday**

By the time Snow finally arrived at Regina’s yard door, she could barely remember why she’d offered to stop to by. Neal had been awake, and crying, pretty much all night. Meanwhile, her husband, seemingly still holding a grudge over her bailing on ‘mommy and me’ the previous day, despite it being for a totally valid reason to do with their daughter’s happiness, had stormed out of the house at dawn after apparently giving up on the pretence that anyone in the house was going to get any sleep that night. To top it all off, Ruby had just called wondering if Snow happened to have her son’s favourite pacifier anywhere as she couldn’t find it at the loft. The slightly desperate plea in her voice led Snow to believe that, best friend or not, if she wanted the childcare arrangement to last beyond the morning, she better locate it, and fast. Her train of thought spiralling, she looked up to find herself standing in Regina’s kitchen with her daughter and grandson both staring at her strangely.

“Sorry I’m late, Emma.” Feeling like she was missing something, she smiled at her grandson. “Good morning, Henry.”

Snow watched, her sense of impending doom growing as Emma sighed deeply. “No problem. Thanks for coming over again.” Her daughter snatched a dish cloth from the side and Snow wondered what crime the coffee mug on its receiving end had committed. “I wasn’t gonna go in today until dad called last night.” Emma looked at her for a moment and Snow attempted to keep her face neutral at the mention of her husband. “He just kept rambling about not having time to get his paperwork done.” It was her daughter’s turn to look confused. “And nursery rhymes.” Snow winced and looked at the floor for a moment, hoping Emma would move on quickly. “Anyway, he sounded kinda mad, so I should probably get moving.”

Feeling the need to change the subject, Snow smiled, her brain beginning to run down a mental list of all the places she _could_ have put the pacifier. “So, how is the patient this morning?” Forcing her attention back to her daughter, she watched as Emma let out a yawn.

“She didn’t sleep great. So, she didn’t give me much sleep either.”

Unable to contain a smirk, though thankfully the snigger stayed buried, Snow raised an eyebrow in Emma’s direction, noting with interest that her grandson had also reacted to the comment. Concentrating on keeping her smile neutral, she continued to focus on her daughter.

“It sounds like you’ve been taking really good care of her.” She paused, wondering idly at what point Emma would at least question this ridiculous charade. “She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

Apparently, they were not at that point.

“I’d do the same for anyone.” Her daughter’s eyes shifted so that they were on anything but her. “Anyway, I’ve got some sheriff-ing to do, so I’m looking forward to getting out of this house for a few hours.”

Snow could feel the smirk beginning to break through once more. Clamping her jaw, she could muster only a murmur, as Emma stared longingly in the direction of the staircase. Unable to contain herself for much longer, she turned to place her bag on the table, distracting herself with a physical search for the damn pacifier.

“Of course, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you go check on Regina before you head off. Just in case.”

At the sound of her daughter practically skidding out into the hallway, Snow decided it was safe to turn her attention to her grandson.

“Henry.”

Knowing there was only a limited window of opportunity to ascertain the information she was seeking, Snow focussed.

“So, your moms seem to be getting on well, huh?” Henry was wearing a slight rabbit in headlights expression and Snow was grateful that delicacy had never been her strong suit. “They really are so close these days, aren’t they?”

Her interest again picked up as her grandson seemed to recover, levelling her with a stare again that recollected his adopted mom. “They are.”

Listening to herself, but somehow unable to stop, Snow took a step toward Henry. “They care a lot for each other.” She watched his reaction closely. “Everyone should be as lucky to have a true _friend_ like that, shouldn’t they?”

Henry continued to meet her gaze, smirking casually back at her. “Maybe one day, they’ll realise how lucky they are.”

Suddenly appreciating that she was having this conversation with her teenage grandchild, Snow felt a fleeting moment of shame pass through her and nodded briskly.

“Well, you have a good day at school, Henry.”

Before she could say anything that she might really regret later, Snow turned her attention back to her purse and the pacifier search mission, as the back door swung closed. However, just as she was fishing a stuffed dinosaur, half impaled on what looked like a stake, but was more likely an old nail file, out of the bottom of the bag, her peace was interrupted as her daughter reappeared beside her.

Looking up, Snow finally took the time to look at her properly, taking in the smudges of tiredness under her eyes and the apprehension written all over her face. Hit by a wave of empathy, Snow reached out, briefly taking her daughter’s hand. To her somewhat amazement, Emma let her, before looking at the door and sighing deeply.

“Go on, then. Don’t keep your father waiting.” Getting away with giving her hand one last squeeze, Snow smiled reassuringly. “Emma, she’ll be fine for a couple of hours. I’ll keep an eye on her, ok?”

With a curt nod, her daughter hoisted her belt and marched purposefully toward the door. If she gave one final look towards the stairs, Snow was kind enough to ignore it, instead taking in the sudden wonderous silence and letting her attention fall once again to the table.

-/-

Hauling herself up from the surprisingly comfortable couch in Regina’s den, Snow checked the time. Indulging herself again in the day-time TV that had long since been replaced by cartoons in her own household, the time had passed disconcertingly quickly. Her foray back into world of The View had been interrupted only by her frequent checks on the woman whose care her daughter had entrusted to her. But, to her relief, Regina appeared to have barely stirred for the last two hours, getting more of the rest she undoubtedly needed.

Looking at her watch once again, Snow headed cautiously up the stairs, if she was honest with herself, still feeling slightly freaked out about essentially having the unsupervised run of Regina’s house. Despite the recent development in their relationship, she found herself habitually looking around for any magical booby traps, that she felt sure her former enemy would still plant, given the chance – or at the very least, cameras. Walking past the open door to her grandson’s room, she took a deep breath, as she approached her destination.

Peering cautiously into the room, the sunlight filtering through the closed blinds revealed that for the first time that day, Regina appeared to be awake. Even from a distance, she could see the pallor of the other woman’s skin and the fatigue in her movements as she rolled over to face her.

“Emma?”

Hearing the strained query, Snow pushed aside any lingering discomfort, quickly crossing the room and perching on the chair. Shaking her head, slowly, she fought the urge to reach across and rest her hand on Regina’s arm which was hanging limply out of the thin sheet draped across her. However, after her recent success with her less-than-tactile daughter, something told her not to push her luck twice in one day. Instead she settled on leaning forward and keeping her voice low.

“David needed some help at the station, so she‘s dropping in for a couple of hours to get some paperwork done. I’ve made her a list for the pharmacy and the store of some things that you’ll need, and she should be back in time for lunch.”

Regina blinked a couple of times, before croaking out a breath. “She should be working.” 

Experiencing a strange rush of protectiveness, Snow reached for the glass of water waiting on the dresser next to her. Noting, with some amusement, the kids straw floating precariously in it, she pinned her best mom-look on Regina, who for once gave in with barely a fight. After a few sips, she seemed to have been sapped of any further energy and sank back onto the pillow. Wanting to at least do the other woman the courtesy of ignoring her current state of weakness, Snow busied herself replacing the cup before continuing with the conversation.

“Don’t worry, David’s been covering. No-one’s slacking off because the mayor is temporarily out of commission.”

“That’s not what…”

Feeling herself finally relax, Snow couldn’t hide her smile. “I know, ok. As hard as this may be to believe, I’m teasing you.”

Snow watched, her heart again reaching out in empathy, as Regina visibly fought her evident exhaustion.

“But she shouldn’t… David shouldn’t…. _you _shouldn’t.”

This time unable to stop herself, Snow reached out taking the hand in front of her and squeezing it gently.

“Look, Regina. I know you don’t always think that much of our family…”

She paused, the image from the previous day of the former evil queen cuddling up to her sleeping daughter flashing before her eyes, and vainly hoped it hadn’t shown on her face.

“Well, David and I at least.”

She stopped again, marvelling for a moment at the genuine affection and the earnest sentiment that she suddenly felt the need to convey.

“And again, believe it or not, I do have some insight into events of the past, and I know I am not without blame in that. But as far as all of us are concerned, you are part of our family.” Regina was watching her closely. “In more ways than I think you probably know yourself yet.” Snow smiled gently, making sure to meet her eyes. “Which means that on the occasions… the very rare occasions… that you need help, we will be there for you. And not because we have some kind of honourable, Charming duty, but because we care about you and just _want_ to.”

Tamping down an unexpected wave of emotion, Snow forced herself to lighten the mood, clearing her throat and raising an eyebrow. “So, if that means that David has to work a couple of extra shifts, and enlist a werewolf to babysit our son, and I have to spend an hour cleaning the mayor’s office, well then that’s what we do.”

At the sudden look of horror on Regina’s face, Snow couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped.

“I picked up the bug for Emma yesterday and I had to go into your office to find the keys, so I did a spot of cleaning whilst I was there.” Feeling slightly guilty that the trauma on Regina’s face, she pressed her hand more firmly, although she couldn’t quite shift her own grin. “Regina, it’s fine.” She paused again, squeezing the hand in hers. “And don’t tell me you don’t get a tiny kick from the image of me on my hands and knees scrubbing vomit out of your carpet.”

Regina was looking at her through glassy eyes, and for a truly awful moment, Snow thought the former queen might actually start to cry.

“Snow… I….”

Torn over offering further comfort, which Snow reckoned could turn out one of two ways, neither of them favourable to her, and self-preservation, Snow kept hold of Regina’s hand for a moment, weighing up her options. Deciding, she really did not wish to face the wrath of Regina for pushing her luck, or the wrath of her daughter who could arrive home at any minute to find an upset Regina, she instead sighed.

“It’s ok, Regina. You’re pretty sick right now, and you’re not yourself, and it may again be hard for you to believe, but I refuse to take advantage of that and force you into a conversation that you will later regret. So, I’m just going to go and get you a fresh glass of water and some pills to help control your temperature, and after you’ve taken them, I can either sit in here with you until you fall asleep, or I can leave you to rest on the understanding that I will be checking on you, or else face the wrath of my daughter.”

Finding again, that she meant every word, Snow smiled, releasing Regina’s hand and subconsciously reaching down to smooth the hair from her still too clammy brow. “In either case, it is your choice, and I will do as you wish.”

At the heat emanating from the other woman, Snow was grateful to find a purpose, rising from her seat and going hurriedly on the hunt for where Regina stashed her meds. After a slightly haphazard search of the bathroom cabinet, she returned to see tired eyes watching her dazedly. Her concern growing, Snow waved the bottle in Regina’s direction apologetically. Unsure whether to help, Snow busied herself with opening the cap and dispensing a couple of pills as Regina undertook the worryingly arduous task of getting herself upright. As she closed her eyes, swaying unsteadily, Snow wasted no time in handing her the tablets and holding out the glass of water for Regina to take a sip. That she again put up no protest, made Snow’s heart again go out to the woman, as she found herself supporting her gently back into a prone position before tucking the covers back around her. Regina mumbled something softly. Concern peaking, Snow again reached out resting the back of her hand against Regina’s forehead. It was hot to the touch.

Attempting to hide her growing worry, she leaned down, speaking softly.

“I’m afraid you’re still too warm. The Tylenol should help but Emma’s going to pick up some more flu meds on her way home, um, here which should also help with the aching and your head.”

Regina let out an uncharacteristic grunt and without thinking Snow dropped down onto the bed beside her, once again taking her hand. “I’m afraid we can’t do very much about how bad you must be feeling other than make sure you get plenty of rest and keep you hydrated.”

She paused for a moment, fleetingly wondering just how much she would end up paying for her actions when Regina was back to full strength but asking anyway. “How’s your stomach feeling now?” At the lack of response, Snow hesitated, at least having the insight to recognise there was a boundary, she thought with a flash of pride, before she trampled all over it. “It’s ok, I get it. Well, if you think you’re going to…” She grimaced. “Just um, yell or…. Unless you want me to…”

Unable to stop herself, Snow’s free hand again settled on Regina’s forehead, the contrast in temperature stark under her cold fingers. Leaving her hand there for a moment in the vain hope it would offer some relief, Snow watched as Regina’s eyes drifted closed.

It was only when she began to rise from her position that she noticed the solid grip on her hand, anchoring her in place.

-/-

Having extracted herself from the sleeping woman’s grasp but listening to the overwhelming instinct that she should stay close, Snow looked up from the composition of her third text message to David, the first two irritatingly unanswered, to see the figure in the bed in front of her stirring restlessly.

“Regina?”

At the intrusion, Regina’s eyes opened slowly, before staring blankly around the room, her breathing rapid.

Now genuinely alarmed, Snow moved toward her, only for Regina to lurch up from the bed with greater energy than she had displayed in days, hoisting herself up into a sitting position against the headboard.

“Regina?”

“No.” The word was clear, but the genuine terror in her voice halted Snow in her tracks.

Her gut twisting inexplicably, Snow again tried to move, only for Regina to pull her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. “Stop it.”

Swallowing tightly, her heart constricting unpleasantly in her chest, Snow did the kindest thing she could think of, slipping from the room and pulling out her cell.

“Emma? No need to worry, honey. But I think you need to come back.”

-/-

Heaving a sigh of relief, Snow heard the unmistakeable sound of a door crashing open and her daughter’s pounding footsteps on the stairs. The ten minutes since she’d made the call had felt like hours, as from a discreet distance she’d watched a clearly fevered Regina fighting an invisible, if not entirely unrecognisable enemy. Snow’s own anxiety was such that she barely entertained the realisation that her magic powered daughter, in her own panic had clearly forgotten she had faster modes of transportation available to her than car. However, all things considered, given the circumstances, driving was probably the safest option for all involved.

As a final panicked breath signalled Emma’s arrival, Snow schooled her features into what she hoped was her best elementary teacher expression, turning her daughter to face her. Taking in her daughter’s worried frown, she gestured into the room so that Emma could see the sight she had very briefly explained over the phone, of a shivering Regina cowering, her head buried beneath her arms, in the corner of the bed.

Seeing her daughter visibly relax at the sight of the other woman, Snow smiled before promptly shoving the bowl of water and flannel she was holding into Emma’s hands, and ushering her into the room. Her daughter looked at her nervously and Snow nodded reassuringly.

“She’ll be ok Emma.” This time the look in her direction was one of dubiousness but she continued. “We just need to get her temperature down, but I think the fever’s making her a little delusional, and she wouldn’t let me near her to help.”

Emma was now hovering by the doorway, biting her lip, as her eyes remained glued to the shaking figure in front of her.

“And what makes you think she’ll be any different with me?”

Silently shaking her head, Snow’s only response was to gently propel her daughter forward. Understanding the need to give the pair privacy, she reluctantly retreated to the hall and waited.

-/-

“Mom?”

The quiet call from the bedroom dragged Snow from her thoughts – a number of which had been about her daughter. Gingerly pushing the door fully open, she peered through to see Emma, kneeling on the bed, a silent but still shivering Regina slumped against her.

As she slid into the room, Emma glanced up long enough to indicate the bowl of water, now abandoned on the floor. Keeping her voice low, she turned slightly so she could see Snow more clearly, her grip on Regina never faltering.

“Is there any chance you could get me some more cold water?” She shrugged apologetically. “She feels a bit cooler, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.”

Before Snow could reply, Regina made a slight noise and Emma turned back to her, pulling her closer. As Snow left the room, she could hear only the faint whispers of her daughter in the silent house.

Her task completed, Snow slipped back into the room, depositing the refreshed water bowl back on the floor and squeezing her daughter’s shoulder as she passed.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

The slight nod of her head was the only sign that Emma even heard her as she continued to hold Regina, murmuring softly against her ear.

Stepping back, Snow took a moment to observe the scene in front of her, as her former nemesis allowed herself to be cradled in her daughter’s arms, the world outside of them ceasing to exist.

Pulling the door closed behind her, she suddenly had the overwhelming urge to find her husband and remind them both of how lucky they too were.

**Friday**

The text message from Emma, asking her to collect Henry from school had been a surprise, if not totally unexpected. Having spent much of the day after David had left for work, thankfully on better terms than the previous morning, thinking about her daughter’s situation, and what she should do, or _not_ do, it came of somewhat of a relief to be around probably the only other person she could talk to about this. However, as Henry slid into the truck beside her, her mind again flashed to the events of the previous day and for possibly the first time, she had the sudden epiphany that this was not her situation to fix. Shifting the truck into gear, she instead pulled out and headed in the direction of Mifflin Street.

As she pulled up outside the house, she was jolted from her thoughts as Henry shuffled beside her to open the door. Seeing, possibly also for the first time, the amount of _her_, that had somehow passed by her daughter but hit her grandson face on, she felt her hand reach out, coming to rest on his arm.

At the action, Henry turned to her curiously.

“Is everything ok?”

Hoping to assuage the worry she could hear in his voice, she smiled “Of course, Henry.”

Now that she had an audience, Snow realised she had no idea what she really wanted to say and found herself looking her grandson up and down as if she could somehow find the answer in him. Coming to the stark conclusion that she had to find some genuine words of wisdom, more than a simple hope speech could provide, she again let the image of the two women from the previous day settle in her mind.

“Don’t give them a hard time, ok?”

Henry continued to watch her. Snow smiled, searching for the words that she hoped the teenager would understand.

“Your moms, they…” She paused. “When you’ve never truly experienced something…” She stopped, thinking for a moment of, despite her reputation, how much better both Emma and Regina were, in their own ways, at explaining the things that matter. Taking a breath, she continued. “It can be hard to recognise it when it’s right in front of you.” Realising the absurdity of where this was going, she laughed quietly. “And I know you’re old enough to appreciate the irony of this coming from me, but it’s not your story to tell, ok?”

Her piece said, deciding it best not to give Henry chance to respond, or ask one of the millions of questions that were surely swirling around his brain that she would probably be unable or unwilling to answer, she smiled brightly, hopping out of the truck and fleeing for the relative safety of the house. By the time Henry caught up with her, she’d had time to find the key that Regina had given her ‘in case of an apocalypse’ several months earlier and let herself in the front door. Quietly making her way across the hallway, she came to a stop outside the living room, smiling softly at the sight that again met her. Signalling for Henry, who had now skidded into the house coming to an abrupt stop behind her, to be silent, she couldn’t contain her emotion at the tableau before them.

Sprawled across the sofa was Regina, her head using the lap of a sleeping Emma as a pillow, both looking more at peace than Snow could recall for either of them.

As Henry turned to look at her, his grin was contagious, and she knew her expression mirrored his. With no words needed between them, she shrugged, reaching for his shoulder to guide him away. Before they left, she turned back to the room, muttering to herself before softly closing the door and following her grandson down the hall.

_/End of part two_


	3. Regina

**Tuesday**

Cautiously cracking open one eye, Regina Mills noticed two things, firstly that she was alone in her bedroom, and secondly that, from the muffled voices she could hear below her, the mayoral mansion itself was most definitely not empty. Stubbornly refusing to wonder why only the first of those two facts suddenly seemed unusual, she rolled over onto her back taking a moment to assess the various messages that her body was telling her with that modest action. Whilst somewhat achy and oddly cold, with abject relief, she could already tell that the unbearable headache that had left her uncharacteristically bed bound for the last day had faded to a dull and manageable ache. Despite part of her feeling peculiarly tempted to simply curl back under the covers and sleep, the urge was overridden by the desire to make it downstairs to see both her son, who she could tell by the fading light outside would be home from school, and bizarrely the blonde sheriff who she knew would be waiting with him.

Her mind, of its own accord, drifted back to the events of the previous day, causing the layer of fog which seemed to be lying over her synapses to swirl into thick grey confusion. Whilst she was aware, due to intermittent unconsciousness, that she may not be the most objective narrator of the events of the last twenty-four hours or so, there was no disputing that in a rare moment of weakness she had somehow let Emma Swan worm her way through _almost _every last one of her barriers. And most disturbing of all, instead of the familiar feel of rising fiery anger at the thought, all she felt was… relief.

Her thoughts were interrupted by heavy footfalls on the stairs and her bedroom door swinging hesitantly open to reveal the said woman. Seeing she was awake, Emma smiled broadly and slipped into the room. As she sat on the bed, Regina found herself involuntarily relaxing as a hand reached for her forehead. Emma’s face seemed to frown momentarily before her features rearranged themselves into a gentle smile and she spoke softly.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

Regina was further annoyed to realise that her initial response was a deep yawn.

“Like Mal was here with one of her damn sleeping curses”, she groused.

At the comment, Emma smiled, what seemed like affectionately, her thumb brushing Regina’s temple.

“Unfortunately, I can assure you that this is entirely medical, and un-magical.” She paused, her look changing to pure concern. “How’s your head?”

“Better.”

At this statement Emma, she realised, did not look wholly convinced, but somewhat surprisingly she seemed to let it go. Her hand, however, remained resting softly in her hair and Regina pointedly ignored the growing comfort she was finding in this oddly intimate gesture. Combined with the care in her voice as she spoke, Regina was suddenly struggling to focus.

“I’m glad. Henry can’t wait to see you. He was pretty worried – for a cool teenager. Do you think you can handle food?” At the evidently concerned look she gave in response, Regina felt a slight pressure on her hand. “Just something light, ok? It might make you feel better.”

The mayor opened her mouth to interject that she was in fact quite fine but was met simply with raised eyebrows and a knowing smirk.

“I get it, you’re fine.” There was another squeeze of her hand. “Are you feeling up to taking a shower? It might make you feel more like yourself.”

At this Regina found herself nodding more decisively suddenly aware that both her body and pyjamas had been well and truly through the wars in the last twenty-four hours and she could only imagine she looked as awful as she probably smelt. Embarrassed, she tried to pull her hand away, only to feel it held in place as green eyes sought her own.

“Don’t.”

Forcing herself to look back up she was again overcome by the strange unmasked affection in the face looking back at her.

“I’ve already put some clean towels and a fresh pair of PJs that Henry says are your favourites, although you’ll never admit it, in your bathroom. The kid and I will be downstairs slaving over a hot salad when you’re ready, so just take your time ok.”

Regina felt the hand in her hair drift back to her brow as the small frown again creased the blonde’s face momentarily.

“But if you’re not down in twenty minutes, I’ll be back to check on you, ok?”

Still feeling somewhat mystified by the entire turn of events over the last twenty-four hours, the former queen waited until the bedroom door once again closed before tentatively swinging herself out of bed and on frustratingly shaky legs heading to the bathroom.

-/-

Feeling somewhat refreshed, or at least relieved to be in clean pyjamas under a thick robe which had suddenly seemed like a necessity, Regina, more slowly than she would have liked, ventured on the trek from her bedroom to the source of the noise she could hear at the bottom of the never-ending staircase.

As she approached the kitchen, she could more clearly make out the familiar back and forth between her son and his biological mother – although from the conversation ensuing, “mother” was clearly a term to be used loosely. Smiling to herself as she listened slightly guiltily to the private moment, the thought passed through her tired mind as to how far they’d all come, that this scene that would have once filled her with fear and anger, caused now only an inexplicable rush of affection, and not just for the child she had raised from an infant.

“Emma, I’m pretty sure it’s not good parenting to tell me to shut up.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t dare have said to your mom what you just said to me.”

Regina sensed rather than saw the teenager shrug.

“Well it’s true. You _do_ look like crap.”

There was a snap of a dish towel followed by an indignant “ow, my shoulder.”

“Well, you deserved it. And for your information I managed a whole four hours sleep before you came home. And ok so it might have been in a chair but need I remind you that I have spent many an extremely comfortable night in my bug over the years, and am therefore completely refreshed, you little….”

Suddenly aware of the growing shaking of her legs and an overpowering need to no longer be supporting her own weight, Regina knew that she had to make her entrance. Seeing both Emma and Henry turn to her immediately, she smiled, pausing for a moment in the hope that she would be able to steady herself before her unease was noticed.

“Mom!”

“Hello Henry.” She reached, casually, she hoped, for the doorframe. “How was school?” Feeling a little steadier she headed for the breakfast bar, unable to fully hide the relief she felt as she rested a hand upon it. “I apologise for yesterday, as Emma I’m sure told you, I was quite unwell. But thankfully I feel much better now.”

The sceptical look on her son’s face did not go unnoticed, but she did not have the energy, she realised to address it. To her surprise she looked around to see the blonde still watching her closely. Her surprise grew as Emma moved closer, sliding with her a stool. With a subtlety that she would not have believed the sheriff possessed, seemingly unnoticed by their eagle-eyed son, there was a reassuring hand on her back lowering her into the chair. Before she had the chance to process the fleeting flash of comfort, the hand vanished, and a glass of water was placed smoothly in front of her. Startled to realise how thirsty she was she downed half the drink before placing it back down to see Emma again looking at her with concern. Hoping to deflect her attention, Regina mustered what energy she could, smiling conspiratorially at her son.

“Henry. Please don’t say you allowed Miss Swan to prepare food. We’ve spoken about this and I believe my instructions on this matter were very clear.”

With a smirk in the direction of the sheriff, Henry sighed.

“Don’t worry, mom. We both know who’s the responsible adult here. The chicken is from Granny’s and I made the salad. I’m not an idiot.”

Noticing the odd look on Emma’s face at the exchange, but unable to read it, Regina paused for a moment unusually off kilter. Her thoughts were interrupted by the bright sound of her son’s voice.

“Are we eating in the dining room?”

Before she had opportunity to formulate an answer, the hand on her back returned and its owner was smiling cheekily at the teenager.

“If your mom doesn’t mind, we could eat right here, if we promise to use our best manners, right?”

Grateful beyond words, Regina forced another smile at her son.

“I won’t be holding my breath as far as you’re concerned, Miss Swan.”

-/-

Regina placed her fork carefully on the still mostly full plate in front of her. Having spent the last ten minutes pushing her food round around the dish and ignoring the looks she knew were being exchanged between blonde mother and son, she recognised she would have to concede defeat. Thankfully she didn’t think she felt nauseous as she had earlier, however she was perturbed both by her lack of appetite and also the growing weariness she could feel overwhelming her. Whilst a peaceful night’s sleep had never been something that came easily for her, for almost as long as she could recall, but more pointedly, an irritating voice in her head prompted, the last several months, this current inertia felt more debilitating than simply the after effects of another night of twisted dreams and dark reminders of her ever present past. Particularly as, the voice unhelpfully reminded her, despite the pain in her head and her unfortunate bout of ill health, her sleep during the last twenty-four hours had been the most restful she could recall in the last three years, and the reason for this was not something she could afford to dwell on.

Forcing herself, with a concerning degree of difficulty out of her head – because such thoughts could not be tolerated in the presence of the two pairs of watchful eyes around the table – she was vaguely aware of her son saying something about a movie and Emma’s voice warmly filling the room in response.

“Sure, Hen. That’s a great idea. Why don’t you go and set it up and we’ll be right behind you.”

As her son’s footsteps faded, Regina was this time only slightly surprised to feel a warm hand resting on her arm.

“You ok?”

The unadulterated concern in the green eyes watching her left her momentarily speechless.

“Regina?”

This time the voice was more urgent.

Blinking, Regina forced herself back, suddenly inexplicably desperate to reassure the worried face beside her, the anxiety emanating from it helping her to focus her thoughts.

“Sorry. Yes, I’m fine.”

The worry turned to cynicism.

Sighing, Regina wondered if the medication she had consumed had somehow contained a truth potion, or at least a half-truth potion, as she felt the words spilling out.

“I’m ok, Emma. I just still don’t feel quite myself.”

For a moment Emma looked almost guilty.

“Yeah, sorry, that could be the drugs. It said it could make you feel kind of woozy for a day or so after.” She paused briefly, her face screwing up in thought. “Well, it didn’t say woozy, it said fatigued, but same thing, right?” Regina found herself unexpectedly suppressing a smile at the blonde’s babbling. As she did so, she felt the back of a cool hand pressed to her forehead and held there for a beat. The guilt on the blonde’s face turned to worry. “You do feel kinda warm though. And you’re really pale. Do you need to go back to bed?”

Forcing herself to keep up, Regina blinked again.

“I will be quite fine watching television with yourself and Henry, my dear. Besides…”

Emma was smiling at her. “You don’t want Henry to worry.” The grin widened. “Come on, your majesty. Let’s get you settled in the den and we can both go back to pretending you’re fine.”

Knowing she was still under scrutiny, and pointedly ignoring the unexpectedly warm feeling that gave her, Regina slipped as elegantly as she could manage off the stool. Before her feet touched the ground, she felt a firm hand under her elbow and another at the base of her back. She was inordinately relieved when her balance gave only a mild objection and she found herself being ushered gently down the hallway. On reaching the door of the den, the hand on her back moved, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before the blonde darted past her and into the room. As she turned the corner. she could already see Emma nonchalantly arranging the cushions on the plush sofa. Henry, she noted, was already sprawled on the floor. Painfully aware that her movements lacked their usual confidence, Regina made her way to the sofa, lowering herself carefully. Seeing the questioning look from Emma and a not so subtle motion suggesting she should lie down, she shook her head, her eyes flickering to Henry who, however unlikely, appeared blissfully unaware of the silent conversation between his mothers. Giving up surprisingly easily, the mayor thought, the sofa dipped as Emma dropped inelegantly beside, shrugging slightly at the glance thrown in her direction.

“What’re we watching, kid?”

-/-

Realising her attention had drifted, Regina was surprised to feel the sofa shift and Emma excuse herself for a moment, oddly quietly. As she did, Henry turned to look at them both for a second. Regina offered him her brightest smile and after a moment his attention shifted back to the glowing TV. Glancing at the screen, it was with growing frustration that Regina realised her eyes were beginning to ache unpleasantly and no matter how she sat she could not find a comfortable position.

Several minutes later, Emma returned looking slightly hesitant. As she entered the room, she paused by the dimmer switch and the room dulled instantly to a more bearable level. Moving over to their son, and nudging him with her foot, balancing rather precariously to avoid spilling the glass of water in her hand, she smiled.

“Hey, kid. Turn the volume down a bit, ok? We haven’t all had as much sleep as your mom and some of us are gonna need a nap here.”

Slipping back onto the sofa by Regina, Emma dipped her free hand into the pocket of the oversized hoodie, clearly purloined from their son’s room, she was now wearing. Checking Henry’s attention was still on the TV, Regina watched as she produced two medication bottles, one Tylenol and the other the tablets from the previous night, raising her eyebrows in what she probably intended to be a stern manner and waiting for Regina to choose.

For a moment Regina was unable to respond. She knew that Emma was waiting for her but for some reason she could process nothing but a burst of unexpected emotion welling up. The only reaction from the woman next to her was a slow movement as she felt a warm hand reach over and clasp her own. Not trusting herself to speak, she pointed tentatively at the Tylenol. She felt a gentle squeeze of her hand before Emma quietly tipped two pills into it, passing her the water. She waited until the tablets had been swallowed before taking the glass back and setting it down next to her. Before Regina could register, Emma was pulling the hoodie over her own head and passing it to her. No longer, it seemed, caring if Henry noticed something amiss or not, Emma leaned over helping Regina carefully out of her robe. She waited patiently for her, with more effort than was normally required, to pull the thick sweater over her head, before gently assisting her back into the robe adjusting it so she was again wrapped up snugly. It was only then that Regina realised she had been shivering rather violently for the last ten or so minutes.

-/-

It was an odd sensation, she thought, the feeling of being present but somehow far away. She was aware of the TV playing some mindless show in front of her, and the solid presence at her side. However, the outlines of the familiar objects around her were becoming increasingly blurry, shapes and colours bleeding together to make things look both curious and at times disconcerting. Her perceptions she thought were not being helped by the growing irritation of the temperature in the room dancing thoughtlessly between frigid and tropical and she was mildly concerned that if not for the hand resting reassuringly on her arm, she could at any minute float away. Feeling her eyelids droop closed, she was somehow unsurprised to feel the sofa shift again and a hand press gently to her forehead. Suddenly feeling more exhausted even than the previous day, she could offer no resistance as a heavy blanket was draped carefully around her and she found herself leaning into a warm, welcoming body. For a moment she thought she could hear words being exchanged in hushed tones but before she could focus on them, they were silent. and she could concentrate only on the warm comfortable sensation washing over her and the odd but very real knowledge that she was safe. Her foggy thoughts began, just for a second, to flit back to the word as if it were a puzzle that her mind couldn’t quite grasp. But the conundrum got lost in the rhythmic feeling of a gentle warmth moving up her back tracing soothing patterns as she felt herself being lulled into a comforting trance.

-/-

A sudden rush of awareness pulled Regina back to consciousness, as her sluggish brain struggled to compute how she was suddenly awake. An odd gurgling noise sounded in her ears and she realised with alarm that it had come from her. She knew she should try and move but her limbs felt both strangely heavy and weak, and she didn’t quite trust herself to speak. Feeling her anxiety rise, she was surprised to realise that someone, Emma of course, was speaking and there was a flurry of activity around her. She looked up in wonder to see the concerned face of her son placing a trashcan in her hands just as her stomach violently rebelled against the morsels of salad from earlier. Feeling her energy wane, she sank back into the arms that she knew would be there to catch her. The voice in her ear was again making comforting sshhing sounds as a hand soothed damp hair from her face. She was dizzy and drained and more than anything just wanted to lay down, but she was confused to feel herself being pulled unceremoniously to her feet, strong arms holding her up as she felt herself sway dangerously. Trying to sit back down before the foolish movement continued, she was surprised to feel a force stopping her, instead guiding her to move forward away from the sanctity of the sofa. She tried to fight it for a moment but stopped as she heard a calming voice in her ear. “Sshh. You’re ok, Regina. We just need to get you back to bed ok. Then you can get some rest.” Between the tender voice and the reassuring sensation of the solid body securely behind her, all the fight drained from her, feeling the haziness again take its grip of her, her only thought, for the second time in as many days, was that she was ok. Emma would take care of her.

Even through the fog swirling around her mind, the mayor realised that this journey up the stairs was infinitely worse than that of the previous day. Whilst during the first journey, although each movement had sent jarring waves of pain through her head leaving her breathless, at least on that occasion she had still been capable in helping in the task. However, on this occasion, despite the odd feeling that she was watching the situation from afar, she was acutely aware that she lacked either the energy or seemingly the coordination to do anything more than lean perilously into the blonde who was attempting to carefully propel her forwards. To make matters worse, whilst she lacked the will to voice her discord, the process was being assisted by their son whose worried presence flanked her other side hovering protectively.

As the trio finally reached the top, Regina was so relieved she again fought back tears. Her legs were aching, the annoying shaking was back, and she was so tired she could barely stand. Whilst she was desperately thirsty, her stomach was shifting unpleasantly and the thought of putting anything else in it, even water, was unbearable. Henry, she noticed, had moved away, disappearing into her room leaving only herself and Emma in the hallway. As she let herself look up at the blonde, she knew the misery on her face was clear to see and she did nothing to hide it. She was astounded for a moment as she felt Emma pull her into a firm yet careful hug, rubbing her back gently. After the initial surprise faded it took Regina only a minute to melt gratefully into the embrace. Staying there several moments longer than necessary, she felt Emma sigh as she released her, ushering her into the bedroom.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

Having been guided onto the bed, Regina let herself collapse as elegantly as possible into it. She was vaguely aware of Emma sweeping Henry out of the room, reassuring him that everything was fine, and the concerned but strangely curious look that their son cast in their direction as he left. Her eyes already drifting closed, she curled on her side as the covers were carefully tucked around her. Once again, a hand was pressed to her forehead and she felt the blanket around her being loosened slightly. Too exhausted to pursue the thought further she felt her eyes slip closed as gentle fingers combed soothingly through her hair.

-/-

She was cold, so cold. Grabbing desperately at the blanket that had been covering her, she was annoyed to feel it being pulled away. The next sensation was that of being jostled uncomfortably until she found herself propped up in a seated position as her robe and finally the hoodie, her last precious last line of defence against the biting temperature in the room was pulled from her. She wanted to struggle but to her dismay all she heard was a somewhat pathetic whimper which she was irritated to realise must have fallen from her own lips. Disconcertingly devoid of energy to do anything else she slumped miserably into the warm arms holding her up, vaguely aware of another exchange of words taking place over her head.

Some more time seemed to pass before she heard footsteps approaching and something cool was being pressed against her forehead. She was vaguely aware that she must now be lying down once more but she couldn’t bring herself to wonder when this had happened. It was odd, she thought that whilst the cold object should have felt uncomfortable, instead it was for some reason wonderfully soothing, as was the gentle voice reassuring her she was ok and she could sleep. The cold pressure was removed for a moment before returning in full force, held in place by a solid hand. She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t quite come, and there were fingers in her hair again stroking in the now familiar comforting rhythm which made her eyes drift closed against their will as everything went black.

**Wednesday**

There was a new voice in the room, one that was shriller yet comfortingly familiar in a long-forgotten way. She could feel something odd being placed in her ear as hands combed through her hair and the softer, welcome voice again shushed her gently. Something beeped above her and there was yet another exchange of words before she felt a pressure on her cheek and the new voice calling her name.

“Regina. Regina.” She knew she should try to answer but she was just so tired. The voice, however, was becoming more urgent. “Regina, it’s me, Snow.” There was a pause and an obviously worried sigh. “I know you want to sleep but can you try and open your eyes for a minute.” Soft fingers traced soothing patterns down the underside of her forearm and for a moment the brunette was transported to a time long ago. She let out a relaxed sigh as a gently voice continued to coax her. “Hey there. I know you’re not feeling too good right now, and I’m sorry about that, but remember when I was a little girl and you let me take care of you that time you got sick, well I need you to let me do that right now ok, so it would be really great if you could just open your eyes for me a little.”

Compelled for some reason, to follow the softly spoken instruction, Regina blinked heavily as two relieved faces came slowly into focus. Green eyes met hers.

“Hey.”

Mother and daughter exchanged a grateful look, before Emma’s eyes returned intensely to her own.

“Geez, you had us worried there for a minute.”

Regina must have looked as confused as she felt, as Emma’s hand dropped comfortingly to squeeze her own. Shifting slightly, sh belatedly realised that she was somehow in her bed, the saviour sitting comfortably propped up with cushions beside her. A thin sheet was draped across them both and an anxious Snow White was crouched awkwardly beside them. It was, of course, Snow who broke the comfortable silence.

“How are you feeling?”

As Regina struggled to consider the answer to the misleadingly difficult question, she was aware that it was now Emma who was running a hand comfortingly up and down her arm, speaking to her softly.

“Does your head hurt?”

Regina nodded wearily.

“Cold?”

Another nod.

“Generally feel like complete crap?”

At this Regina managed to raise her eyebrow enough to cause a smirk, before nodding.

The hand continued its soothing motion. “Yeah well it looks like you’ve managed to get yourself a pretty nasty case of flu and you have quite a fever going on here which would pretty much explain all of that.” As if on cue, Regina shivered heavily and the pressure on her arm increased. After sharing another look with her mother, Emma looked down at her tenderly. “Come on, let’s sit you up for a minute.”

Too exhausted to argue, Regina let the younger woman lift her into a seated position, both acutely aware that she was incapable of making any real effort to support herself. Seconds later she was curious to see that Snow was placing two small white pills in her hand and nodding earnestly. With a brief look to Emma for confirmation, she popped the tablets into her mouth shakily, slightly appalled to realise that she had also let Snow feed her a mouthful of water to wash them down. The drugs swallowed, she felt herself slump wearily against the warm body propping up her own. The only response was a tightening of the arms securely around her, and though Regina thought she might have hallucinated it, a comforting kiss pressed onto her hairline. Realising that she probably should have asked what the drugs were before swallowing them, Regina shifted slightly to ask. Before she had chance, she heard a voice mumble softly into her hair. “Don’t worry. It was just Tylenol to try and bring your temperature down a little.” Feeling another chill run through her, she found herself settling further into the warm embrace seeking the comfort it inexplicably provided. Bracing herself, out of habit, to be pushed away she instead found a soothing hand reaching up to her hair and holding her head in place on a strong shoulder as she was forcibly shifted back down into the bed. Relieved to be once again lying down, she shuffled until her head rested securely in the comfortable crook of a soft neck and she inhaled gratefully. Feeling a solid arm secure itself over her back, Regina let out a contented sigh as her eyelids became impossibly heavy and she knew that she would be safe no matter what fevered dreams would plague her.

-/-

“It’s still too high, Emma.”

The voices were back again, poking at the edges of Regina’s consciousness. She could feel the uncomfortable object in her ear again and a soft breath shushing her as if she was a child and gently instructing her to close her eyes and go back to sleep. Part of her wanted to object, she was the mayor of this damn town after all, but the voice was so comforting, and she was still so tired. The object had been removed from her ear but there was now something cold on her forehead, and strangely on the back of her neck. As she heard the same ridiculous whimper as earlier, the arms around her tightened and light fingers drifted comfortingly down her cheek. “Shhh, sweetie, you’re ok.” The hand halted suddenly for a moment before resuming its action, and against her will, Regina felt her eyes once again slip closed.

-/-

The next time Regina awoke, she was unfortunately all too acutely alert. Her previously clean pyjama top felt damp and sticky against her skin and she realised it was in fact possible to be both too hot and ice cold all at the same time. The pounding in her head, whilst thankfully not at the same intensity as the previous day, was back with a fierce vengeance and every muscle in her body was aching worse than the unfortunate time she’d been thrown through her own damn clock tower. She was so consumed in taking in her various ailments that it took her several moments to realise that firstly her pillow appeared to be breathing, and secondly that she was being watched intensely by her former step-daughter whose expression was so openly affectionate that Regina couldn’t decide whether she wanted to destroy something violently or simply cry with relief. It was only when Snow’s own eyes welled up and she reached for the older woman’s hand, that Regina realised she had opted for the latter.

Already planning on blaming the fever she intellectually knew she must still have, Regina’s confusion with herself grew, as she felt herself relaxing as Snow carefully leaned over placing the back of her hand on a clammy brow. As if confirming what she already knew, Snow nodded satisfied. “Hey. I think your fever’s broken”, she whispered, her eyes briefly flitting up toward the sleeping form of her daughter who was currently acting as, the mayor realised with growing embarrassment, her own personal comfort blanket. As if reading Regina’s mind, Snow smiled strangely. “Don’t worry, Emma’s fine. That girl can sleep through anything.” Her expression became more curious. “She just wanted you to get some rest.” Her smile became gentle. “How are you feeling?”

Regina sighed, too weary to lie. “Abysmal, dear.”

Snow smiled sympathetically. “I hear the flu can do that to you. Emma’s been keeping an eye on you, but she didn’t want you to be on your own if you needed anything when you woke up.” She seemed to be watching the older woman’s response to this statement carefully. “She knew you’d be feeling, pretty ‘shitty’,” she smiled, “her words, obviously, when you woke up and she didn’t want to risk you not being able to get back to sleep right away. So here we are.”

Regina knew her own expression was curious, but her words surprisingly held no venom.

“And tell me Snow, how come you _are_ here?”

Snow simply smiled in return. “Because it takes a lot to make my extremely independent daughter panic enough to make her believe she needs her parents,” her expression became momentarily melancholy, and Regina felt an unexpected stab of guilt. Her face shifted back to thoughtful. “However, this was one of those rare occasions where something, or some_one_ made her worry enough to do that, and I would be even more of an idiot than you think I am, to not show up.”

Knowing that Snow had said something somehow important, but finding it increasingly difficult to focus, Regina could feel her eyes again drifting closed. Before she could drift off, she felt a soothing hand again resting on her brow and Snow’s voice, soft but insistent. “Hey. Stay with me for a minute ok. Your fever might have broken but your temperature’s still up and down, and I’m guessing you’d feel better to get some dry clothes on.” Realising Snow was for once right, Regina nodded weakly, starting to dread what was coming next. As if sensing her anxiety, the younger woman again squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I just want you to feel better, ok?” Finding herself inexplicably believing the other woman’s words, Regina nodded in resignation, as Snow reached over, not so gently shaking the exposed shoulder of her sleeping daughter.

Regina felt rather than saw the moment Emma awoke, as one arm reflexively tightened its hold around her, the other reaching blindly for her face.

“Hey. I’m awake. What’s wrong? Are you ok?”

For a second Regina swore she heard Snow snigger, before it turned suspiciously into a cough. Collecting herself, she again reached out for her daughter.

“Emma, it’s fine. Regina’s awake and her fever’s down a little, but we agreed that she’d feel better if she could change out of her damp clothes.”

Regina knew her mind was still fuzzy, but she was sure she felt the grip on her again tighten as Snow spoke.

With a shake of her head, Emma shifted so she could look directly at Regina. Her eyes softened and she tenderly smoothed stray hair from her clammy forehead. “Hey, you. It’s good to see you awake.”

Regina couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face unbidden. “I’m afraid with the way I’m feeling, I’d gladly settle for eternal sleep right now.” This time the hold on her definitely tightened and she subconsciously settled into it.

The moment was interrupted by Snow loudly clearing her throat, an odd smirk playing across her face.

“Emma, why don’t you help Regina to sit up, ok?”

Regina felt the arms around her loosen and she was disconcertedly affected by the loss. Forcing herself to focus she was alarmed to feel a flush of heat rising through her. Hoping the feeling would abate if she could get herself upright, she was alarmed to feel the room spin as she found herself swaying back. Before she knew it, strong arms were again around her and a cool cloth was pressed to the back of her neck. “It’s ok, you’re ok.” She looked up into caring green eyes. “Just give yourself a minute.” Feeling the world right itself again, she dared to sit up a little straighter. Emma released her slightly, but she was acutely aware of the proximity of the blonde and her watchful gaze.

Feeling herself being gently lowered back onto her bed, Regina couldn’t help the sigh of sheer relief that fell from her. Whilst she felt strangely detached from the events happening around her, she was unfortunately coherent enough to understand that she felt worse than she could recall feeling since the curse first broke, and possibly for many years before Storybrook even existed. Her reverie was interrupted by Emma swaying awkwardly from foot to foot before Snow’s voice, strangely amused, broke in, telling her daughter to go into the bathroom and fetch her some clean washcloths whilst she “took care of the rest.” Vaguely wondering what was happening, Regina opened her eyes to see Snow holding out an oversized shirt from her dresser motioning for her to remove her top and put on the proffered item. Pondering for a moment whether this was in fact just a really strange dream, the spell was broken when Snow whispered dramatically, her eyes flicking in the direction of the bathroom. “Get changed ok. I thought, all things considered, if anyone was going to see you naked in this state, it should probably be me.” She smiled cockily and for a moment Regina saw Snow the outlaw with no sign of Mary Margaret Blanchard in sight. “And as inappropriate as this may be, you can thank me later.” Too confused to reply, Regina took the shirt as requested and clumsily changed. She was just settling back down as Emma emerged from the bathroom, armed with a fresh washcloth and glass of water which she placed by the bed.

“I’m going to check on Henry, so I’ll leave you two to it, ok?” The strange smirk was back on Snow’s face as she quietly closed the door behind her.

Emma, Regina realised, was so focused on her that she barely seemed to notice her mother had spoken.

“Emma.”

Nothing.

“Emma.”

“Huh?” She seemed to snap to attention. “What? Sorry. What’s wrong?”

“I would have thought what was wrong was fairly apparent by now, dear. Even to you.”

Whilst Regina was grateful that she had momentarily sounded more like herself, she was surprised that the words lacked their usual bite, a realisation compounded by the unusually muted response from her sparring partner.

“Sorry. But you really scared me, ok.”

Doing her best not to think about the implications behind that particular statement, Regina smiled gently. The unexpected emotion that flooded through her, for a blessed moment made her forget all physical discomfort.

“Emma. I’m fine. Really.” She smirked at the sceptical look this produced. “Alright, so I may have to concede that both yourself and Henry were correct in your diagnosis and I am temporarily in ill health beyond a simple headache. But whilst I may currently feel like death itself, I am also aware that I have a flair for the dramatic, and I can assure you that given some rest, I will be quite fine.” Gaining no response, she raised an eyebrow. “And as you can see for yourself, for the present at least my temperature is relatively normal, so rest assured I am currently quite lucid. However, I am afraid from the coldness I am beginning to feel, that this reprieve may not last much longer so if you would be so kind, it may be time for one of those cloths you are still holding, and I should probably attempt to drink some of that water, as much as I fear I shall become reacquainted with it shortly.”

Regina was relieved to see that whilst she could feel the dizziness returning unpleasantly, she was still coherent enough to appreciate the expression on Emma’s face as it ran from confusion to amusement and finally back to worry. Visibly shifting back into care giver mode, she hurriedly rushed to her side, again slipping down next to her onto the empty side of the bed, her hand automatically reaching for her forehead.

“Shit. You feel pretty warm again.”

Her previous burst of energy now receded, Regina nodded despondently. Gently helping her to a sitting position, Emma kept her hand on the glass as she hesitantly took a few sips of water. Feeling her stomach object, she sagged against the headboard dejectedly.

“Hey. It’s ok.” Warm hands were back on her shoulders. “Lie back down, that’s it.” Realising that she was once again shivering, she felt the welcome touch of the cool cloth. “Mom says your temperature could be up and down for the next few days, sorry, so we might just have to get used to this.” Emma’s soothing voice was suddenly the most reassuring things that she could imagine, and her hazy mind idly wondered when this had happened. But the thought was interrupted by the sensation of the bed shifting and a soft arm slipping beneath her shoulders pulling her in. Shuffling toward the comforting presence, Regina moved until her head rested comfortably amongst blonde hair, one arm draped heavily over her stomach. Greedily soaking in the warmth offered to her, she was vaguely alarmed to note that the uncomfortable shivering failed to cease and despite suddenly feeling so wretched, sleep would not seem to come. As if sensing her discomfort, a hand stroked soothingly up and down her arm as a gentle voice spoke softly about something that she was having difficulty concentrating on, but felt wonderfully calming all the same, as fevered thoughts carried her away.

**Thursday**

“Emma?” Regina knew she probably sounded more anxious than was warranted but seemed to be able to do little about it.

Gingerly rolling over, squinting at the bright sunlight streaming through the cracks in her bedroom blinds, the image of Snow, hovering outside the door for a moment, before quietly pushing it open, came into focus.

Dropping into the chair, which had been pulled up next to the bed, the younger woman smiled, speaking softly.

“David needed some help at the station, so she‘s dropping in for a couple of hours to get some paperwork done. I’ve made her a list for the pharmacy and the store of some things that you’ll need, and she should be back in time for lunch.”

Regina blinked, grasping at thoughts that seemed just out of reach.

“She should be working.” 

Her voice was raspy. She attempted to clear her throat, but the action was painful. Beside her, Snow reached for a glass of water on the dresser. Protruding from it was a curly red straw that she recognised vaguely from Henry’s childhood. Snow fixed her with a look, bringing the straw to her lips. Regina rolled her eyes but drank gratefully for several seconds.

When she had finished, Snow replaced the cup before turning to Regina, her face unreadable.

“Don’t worry, David’s been covering. No-one’s slacking off because the mayor is temporarily out of commission.”

“That’s not what…”

This time, Snow smiled genuinely.

“I know, ok. As hard as this may be to believe, I’m teasing you.”

Regina could feel her eyes closing once more but she forced herself to concentrate.

“But she shouldn’t… David shouldn’t…. _you _shouldn’t.” Frustrated at her sudden inability to finish a sentence, she looked up to see Snow still smiling at her gently, before reaching somewhat hesitantly for her hand, and grasping it lightly.

“Look, Regina. I know you don’t always think that much of our family…” She paused, the slight smirk again flashing across her face. “Well, David and I at least. And again, believe it or not, I do have some insight into events of the past, and I know I am not without blame in that. But as far as all of us are concerned, you are part of our family.” Regina noted the expression again. “In more ways than I think you probably know yourself yet.” The smile became strangely affectionate. “Which means that on the occasions… the very rare occasions… that you need help, we will be there for you. And not because we have some kind of honourable, Charming duty, but because we care about you and just _want_ to.” She smiled almost challengingly and Regina found herself reminded once again of the outlaw she had once been pitted so blindingly against for all those years in the Enchanted Forest, struggling for a moment to understand how all her feelings of hate and anger toward the woman had just evaporated, leaving only a confounding kinship. “So, if that means that David has to work a couple of extra shifts, and enlist a werewolf to babysit our son, and I have to spend an hour cleaning the mayor’s office, well then that’s what we do.”

At the last part of the speech, Regina stilled, and Snow let out a genuine laugh.

“I picked up the bug for Emma yesterday and I had to go into your office to find the keys, so I did a spot of cleaning whilst I was there.” On seeing the mayor’s expression, Snow squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Regina, it’s fine.” She grinned. “And don’t tell me you don’t get a tiny kick from the image of me on my hands and knees scrubbing vomit out of your carpet.”

Obviously more affected by the fever than she thought, as Snow’s risible little speech about family could surely have no effect on her, Regina opened her mouth preparing for a scathing retort. However, to her incredulity, she got no further than, “Snow…”

Blinking back unwanted moisture from her eyes and swallowing heavily in a way that, possibly unfortunately, had nothing to do with her earlier nausea, she tried again. “I….”

Before she could continue, she felt the grip on her hand tighten, looking up to see her former stepdaughter looking at her knowingly.

“It’s ok, Regina. You’re pretty sick right now, and you’re not yourself, and it may again be hard for you to believe, but I refuse to take advantage of that and force you into a conversation that you will later regret. So, I’m just going to go and get you a fresh glass of water and some pills to help control your temperature, and after you’ve taken them, I can either sit in here with you until you fall asleep, or I can leave you to rest on the understanding that I will be checking on you, or else face the wrath of my daughter.” Regina felt the grip on her hand be relinquished, as cool fingers instead reached out to gently sweep across her brow. “In either case, it is your choice, and I will do as you wish.”

Her hazy mind again struggling to comprehend what had just happened, Regina watched as Snow again smiled at her softly before exiting the room. In what seemed like only moments later, she was back waiting patiently for Regina to hoist herself into a position where she could swallow the tablets. Task achieved, the former queen wasted no time in sinking back into the bed. Snow again waited for Regina to make herself comfortable before smoothing the covers over her and resting the back of her hand across the older woman’s clammy forehead.

“I’m afraid you’re still too warm. The Tylenol should help but Emma’s going to pick up some more flu meds on her way home, um, here which should also help with the aching and your head.” When Regina’s only reaction was a tired sigh, Snow slipped down onto the bed beside her, again reaching for her hand. “I’m afraid we can’t do very much about how bad you must be feeling other than make sure you get plenty of rest and keep you hydrated.” She paused for a moment, hesitantly. “How’s your stomach feeling now?”

Tentatively wondering the same thing herself, the masochist residing within her forced herself to think somewhat graphically about her last meal. As she swallowed slightly at the thought, the concern on Snow’s face grew, and she smiled comfortingly. “It’s ok, I get it. Well, if you think you’re going to…” She paused uneasily. “Just um, yell or…. Unless you want me to…”

Snow’s other hand had reflexively moved back to her forehead, as she spoke and Regina, aware of the heat emanating from her in contrast to the cool fingers resting against her, inexplicably felt an unbidden flash of affection. For what must have been the hundredth time of the last few days she could feel her eyes getting heavy as her body, she knew gave in once more to the fever it was fighting. Her last conscious thought was the firm grip she maintained on Snow’s hand as she drifted off to sleep idly hoping that by the time she next awoke, Emma would be back.

-/-

“Hey.”

This time when Regina blearily looked around the room, she was, she realised. disproportionately happy to be met with green eyes and a warm smile.

“When d’you get home?” She paused, groggily, “mean here.”

Emma dropped down once again onto the bed next to her. Her face seemed to be running through a gauntlet of emotions, yet Regina could understand none of them. She wasn’t sure if it was the fever, but her inability in that moment to read Emma was disconcerting, like a memory pricking at the corners oh her consciousness, yet unable to break through.

“About four hours ago.” Emma’s expression shifted once again. “Your fever spiked again when Snow was here, so I came back a little earlier. We managed to get it down, hopefully the new meds will help, and then mom went to pick up little bro, and you’ve been pretty much just sleeping.” She reached out to feel Regina’s brow, a wide smile spreading across her face. “Wow, you actually feel normal temperature. Score!”

“If you high five me, Miss Swan, so help me…”

“And you’re clearly feeling more yourself.” The grin widened.

Regina yawned heavily. Feeling her eyes drooping, she watched hazily as Emma rearranged the covers, pulling them up and tucking them firmly around her. At Regina’s confused stare, she smiled sheepishly.

“Once your fever’s down, we have to make sure you stay warm and get plenty of rest and fluids.” She paused for a moment as if reciting a list in her head “Tomorrow I need to check that you can keep food down.” There was another pause. “And you need to rest for another three to six days before you even think about doing anything strenuous. Oh, and no work for at least another week.”

Regina had little energy to do more than raise an eyebrow, but it seemed to have the desired effect as Emma looked at her almost guiltily.

“Um, yeah, so I may have run into Archie and asked his advice.” She stumbled. “Look I was really worried when Mary Margaret called and I didn’t know if we needed to get you to a doctor, and Whale didn’t seem like a good option so….”

“You do realise that Dr Hopper is a psychiatrist?”

The comment lacked any real scorn and Emma simply shrugged.

“He and Whale both got their medical degrees in a curse so it’s all relative, right?”

Feeling another yawn take hold, Regina sighed, letting her eyes fall closed. Frustrated, she tried to fight it, but the covers around her were smoothed one more time as the weight shifted and a gentle kiss was pressed into her hair.

“It’s ok. Get some rest.”

**Friday**

The sharp glare of sunlight pulled Regina to the brink of wakefulness. Blinking hazily to find her bearings, she noted the drawn blinds, through which the shaft of light was stubbornly forcing its way through, the blinking alarm beside her telling her it was almost one o’clock, in the afternoon presumably, and the empty, yet clearly slept-in side of the bed beside her. Before her thoughts could take her any further, she smiled as, as if by force of will alone, the door nudged open and a blonde head peered around it.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty.”

Regina attempted a scowl. However, against the look of pride which accompanied the smirk on Emma’s face, she judged it as not being one of her best. This assessment was confirmed as Emma slipped fully into the room, placing a glass of water on the bedside table with one hand, the other going habitually to Regina’s head. Seemingly satisfied with what she found, she smiled.

“Looks like that last sixteen hours of sleep, really did the trick, huh.”

Regina’s felt her eyes widen in surprise, before, to her frustration, she yawned.

Again, Emma’s response was a smile, as she reached for her, indicating she should sit up, before slipping a pillow behind her for what she irritatingly realised, was much needed support with the action. Once she was settled, Emma passed her the water, keeping a hand on the bottom of the glass as it shook slightly. Not wanting to risk anymore liquid, she let her hand drop. Emma silently took the cup, placing it back down, as Regina noted the sudden warmth of the hand that had casually slipped into hers.

“How are you feeling?”

Every instinct in Regina felt like she should be annoyed at this question by now, yet at the genuine sympathy on Emma’s face, she found herself shuffling closer.

“Ironically, exhausted.” She laughed self-deprecatingly, feeling once again the squeeze of her hand. “And most definitely a little tired of these same four walls.”

A brief look of apprehension flashed across Emma’s face before she shrugged, gesturing in the direction of the bedroom door.

“Your wish is my command, your majesty.”

-/-

Twenty minutes later, and wrapped, at Emma’s insistence, in the warmest, and most comfortable clothes she owned, Regina found herself cocooned on the couch in her den. If she was being honest, simply the process of getting dressed, and with more support from Emma than she wished to admit, getting down the stairs had drained what little energy she’d felt. Yet it was the comforting sensation of a hand soothing through her hair and the gentle movement of the legs she was using as a pillow which were making the task of keeping her eyes open almost herculean. Shifting slightly, she felt the blanket draped over her being adjusted. Her final hazy thought was the feeling of warmth, not she pondered from the various layers of fleece encasing her, but from the soft arm securing them in place over her stomach and the strong reassuring presence of the woman by her side. Letting the feeling wash over her, her eyes drifted closed.

-/-

This time, Regina knew it was noise rather than light that had dragged her unwillingly from her slumber. She was warm and comfortable, her limbs heavy and relaxed and the pull of sleep was almost too great to fight. As she shuffled, the arm around her middle tightened for a second, but the soft snoring coming from behind her told her that the action of its owner was an unconscious one. Fighting against the comfort for another few seconds she looked up to see two figures in the doorway watching them quietly. As they stood for a moment, Regina felt another wave of fatigue flood over her. As she gave into it willingly, the final sound she heard was the mumbled voice of Snow, shaking her head as she backed slowly out of the door, pulling it closed behind her.

“They’ll have to figure it out at some point.”

_/End_


End file.
